96

Aly sighed a soft sigh before sitting back down in her seat. I slowly turned my attention back to her, feeling a shocked smile cross my lips. She flipped her books open as our teacher finally made her presence known ten minutes after class was supposed to start. Aly leaned over, flipping open my own book to the page we needed to be on.

Then she looked up at me.

“What?”

I shook my head. “Thank you, Aly.”

She shrugged. “We’re all tired of their stuff.”

“Oh, now you say ‘stuff.’”

She smiled at me, and it caused me to chuckle. We muffled our laughter as the teacher started her lecture, rushing us through our homework so we could get to ‘the good stuff,’ as she called it. And while I loved my English class—mostly—this book we were reading could go kick rocks. It was the first book in all of high school I’d been forced to read that I didn’t enjoy one damn bit.

Catch-22 could suck my—

“I really don’t like this book.”

Aly’s murmur caught my ear and it made me grin.

“Me, neither. Don’t worry.”