The Kip she remembered was the handsome young man who strolled up to her as she sat in the library at lunch time. His carved face, framed by hair that was obviously in a grow-out period. He was so handsome, so confident as he stood next to her.
It scared Mandy just to be looking at him, so she turned her attention back to her writing. He couldn't possibly be wanting to talk to her. She was certain she'd seen him with Cassie Morgan, the most popular girl in eleventh. Or was she in twelveth.
"Hey, uh," he snapped his fingers, "Shit, I can't remember your name. But, uh, you're in my math class right?"
She looked at him and shook her head. "I don't think so," she mumbled. Why wouldn't he go away? She wasn't about to give him the answers to their math homework or anything.
"Sure, you sit behind Sherry. Across from me." He sat down beside her, placing his binder on the table. "I'm totally not asking you for the answers. It's just, I missed class yesterday and if I fail the next test, my parents won't let me play in the baseball tournament next weekend."
Mandy looked at him again, just briefly. She felt her face flush every time she realized his entire attention was on her. He was so good-looking it hurt. She glanced around. His friends must be around somewhere. This was obviously some kind of practical joke they were playing on her. Get answers or make her look stupid somehow. She wasn't going to fall for it. She steeled herself against his charm and good-looks.
"Please?" he added.
She shook her head. "I'm not waiting here to be your practical joke," she said, wondering where that confident sound in her voice had come from.
"There is none. I just, really need those notes." She glanced at him again and met his eyes. He looked sincere. It was that final look that melted her resolve. She opened her binder and pulled out her notes from the previous day's math period.
"Thanks. I'll just sit here and copy them, so you don't think I've run off with them. If that's okay? I won't disturb you. I'm Kip Turner, by the way." He offered his hand.
She knew exactly who he was. The most popular boy in school. The best athlete in the entire region. Everyone knew that. He was going to play pro hockey, the newspapers proclaimed. She'd seen him practically the first minute she'd walked into the school. He was so good-looking, she'd had a crush on him in those first seconds. Of course, she knew she'd never have a chance with a guy like that so she was stuck with her fantasies of him. That was good enough for her.