ELENA’S POV By lunch, the number on my wrist had smudged into a blue mess. Fine. Whatever. It wasn't like I had it memorized or anything. (I had it memorized. All ten numbers. I wasn't proud of that.) "You keep looking at your arm," El said around a mouthful of fries. "That's the fourth time." "No I don't." "Hayden. Back me up." Hayden said nothing. He suddenly found his water bottle very interesting. "Coward," El said. "I'd like to survive lunch," he said. I pulled my arm under the table and glared at both of them. "Can we not make this a whole thing?" "It's already a whole thing, Lena. A boy wrote his number on your arm in front of the entire school. There's no version of this that isn't a thing." "He's pushy," I muttered. "That's all it means." "Mm-hm." El leaned back, arms crossed, wearing the smug look she always got right before she said something I wasn't going to like. "Is that why you haven't washed it off?" I froze with a fry halfway to my mouth. "I knew it," s
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