How to Hook a Hottie by Tina Ferraro

gems of the Internet: a does-he-like-me? test. “Do you two have any classes together?”
    She nodded readily. “Next period.”
    I leaned in like I had to keep what I was about to say quiet. Even though we were alone I knew it all had to do with my delivery. I whispered instructions in her ear, then stood and stretched.
    “Find me later, and we'll see if we can take this to the next step.”
    Her face twisted in desperation, making me want to break into a dance. I
so
had her!
    •
    After school, I arrived back at my locker to find an actual line. Like I was giving away free cell phone minutes or SAT cheat sheets.
    Mark was there, sighing. Dakota was beside him, throwing her hair from one shoulder to the other, as usual. She was followed by a paper-thin girl in low-rider jeans. And Carlton Camp, from the student store. Thinking back to that day on the quad, I shouldn't have been surprised that he had a crush.
    “I'm first,” Dakota told the others in a don't-challenge-me tone.
    “No,” Mark said firmly. “I was here first. And my business with Kate is private.” He eyed me seriously and nodded toward the row of lockers across the hall.
    We took a few steps into traffic. I wanted this to be quick. I had some potential paying customers waiting, and although Mark didn't know it, his case was closed. “Can't whatever this is wait until the rink later?”
    He shook his head. “One question.” His face looked set—clamped mouth, fixed eyes. “Did Chelsea pay you to get me to ask her to the banquet?”
    “What?” I said, freezing in place.
    “You heard me.”
    My stomach clenched, and the world sort of went wavy before my eyes, like I was looking through my sister's glasses.
    Mark knew. The Hook-ee had found out about the Hook-Upper. And he wasn't happy.
    People streamed by us in both directions, their voices bouncing off lockers and the low-tiled ceiling, competing with the sudden rush of blood in my ears.
    “That's . . . ,” I finally said, and swallowed. “. . . confidential.”
    A curse fell from his mouth. I knew he had his answer. He turned away.
    “Mark,” I said, grabbing his arm. I waited until he met my gaze again. “Let's talk more about this. There's an explanation.” At least, there would be, as soon as I came up with one.
    “I thought we couldn't talk about it. That it was
confidential
.” He turned up the intensity of his glare and pulled out of my grip.
    It was my turn to mutter a curse.
    Immediately, Dakota was on top of me. “He looked at the clock. Jon looked.” A smile touched her mouth. “So we're on, right?”
    It took me a second to regroup and remember the test I'd given her. The “Is He Staring at Me in Class?” test. The idea was for her to watch Jon out of the corner of her eye during class until she was pretty sure he was looking at her, then to throw an urgent look at the clock, hold a beat, and really fast, look back at him. If he was looking at the clock, odds were he'd followed her gaze. Which meant—bingo!—he'd been checking her out.
    “That's good,” I managed to tell her. “Real good. What we wanted.” I drew in a breath. I really wanted to run this Dakota/Jon hookup by Dal first, to get his take. But odds were he'd be up for the challenge and the bucks, and it was best to strike while the iron was hot, right? “Okay, as soon as you deliver the deposit, we'll get to work.”
    She reached into her pocket and slipped me what looked like a folded-up note. But the paper had weight, and my superior senses could smell the U.S. currency.
    “Call me tonight,” she said, and left me to my line.
    Before I could say bye to Dakota, Skinny Girl approached me. “How much?” the girl whispered.
    “For what?” I had to make sure she wasn't expecting something bootlegged or illegal.
    “You know, how much for you to hook me up with someone?” she said in that same superlow, hurried tone. Like she was afraid of getting caught.
    I held her gaze. If this girl, who I didn't