Page 24 of Jump on Three

I had never thought much of Ivan. He was the boy who had hurt my sister’s heart, and that was all. Ivan was Delilah’s friend, not mine.

But then he’d jumped with me two days ago.

He’d held my hand and taken me over the edge. I hadn’t died, and he hadn’t laughed at me thinking it had been a real possibility.

Now, I thought perhaps he wasn’t the worst. He had some redeeming qualities.

His bass-drop laugh being one of the biggest.

We started walking toward the dining hall together. I watched his feet take short steps to match my pace.

“What’s up with the relay team?” he asked.

“We’re bad,” I replied.

He barked a laugh, and my toes curled with pleasure. It was a good laugh.

“I didn’t want to say it, but now that you have, yes, you are bad. Why are you swimming with those girls?”

I shrugged. “Layla’s the captain. She told me I wouldn’t be a good teammate if I didn’t agree to be part of the relay team. There wasn’t really a choice involved.”

“What Layla told you isn’t true.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true.” I hitched my bag higher and glanced up at him, finding the tip of the little wing poking up from his collar. “I don’t think Layla understands that anyone watching our team can easily see she’s the weak link. I would be embarrassed if I were her.”

He laughed again, and my chest warmed.

“I can’t argue with that.”

I cocked my head at him. “Why would you?”

His mouth curved into a half smile. “I wouldn’t.”

We entered the dining hall together, and I broke away from him, heading toward the bakery. Just as I was about to get in line, a boy hurried and got in front of me.

My enemy.

Ryan.

He spun around to waggle his brows at me. “What do we order from the bakery for dinner?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “No.”

His brows stopped waggling to pop high on his forehead. “No?”

“I’m not falling into that trap again. I lost my scone to you last time.”

He chuckled, and I noted it wasn’t anywhere near as pleasant as Ivan’s. “I can’t believe you’re still mad about that.”

“I’m not mad. I just learned a lesson.”

His face moved in a strange way before he stepped to the side and held his arm out. “Why don’t you go in front of me? No chance of me stealing the last of anything before you get your hands on it.”

I stepped forward warily, not really trusting him. But my manners came out automatically. European boarding school lessons had become part of my ethos.

“Thank you so much,” I murmured.

“Of course. Anything to make you feel comfortable.”