Tru Love Read Online Free Page A

lot into the movement, but maybe. . . she glances up at him, and he’s waiting for her. This close, she can see the shards of jade in his brown eyes. Hot and cold.
                  He smiles and says, “Made you look.” His chest shakes with quiet laughter. “Juvenile, I know,” he admits. “But so was your behavior this morning.”
    He takes the seat at the table and Genny’s still standing, her bag clutched to her chest, trying to defrost her brain so it will listen to her, when Mr. Cooke spots her.
                  “Miss Vout, are you staying?”
                  She slides into her desk and all the way down in her seat. She would put her coat over her head, but that, too, would be childish.

 
     
     
    Chapter Three
                  She bolts out of her seat and clears the door while the bell is still ringing, then loses herself in the crowd of kids pushing to their next class. All probably unnecessary. She doubts Mr. Australia is following her, or that Mr. Cooke has any more poisonous arrows to shoot her way. All the same, she’s relieved to turn the corner and catch sight of Hunter’s curly mop of hair just feet in front of her. She slips between a group of girls and slides her hand into his. Hunter looks down at her and smiles.
                  Genny tries not to focus on the fact that today, Hunter’s impact on her seems even less than it was yesterday.
                  She definitely ignores the streaking image of his smile, and the way it makes her skin feel singed.
                  “Thanks,” she says. “I needed that.”
                  “Bad morning?” he squeezes her hand.
                  Genny rolls her eyes. “You could say that.”
                  “You want to tell me about it?”
    Before she can, he pulls her hand toward his face and peers at her palm.
                  “Ouch,” he says. “Did you fall?”
                  She thinks about where to start, what to leave out, and how not to sound like a complete idiot, but every version places her square in the role of moron. So she settles for a simple,
                  “Yeah.”
                  “Sorry, babe,” Hunter sympathizes then moves on. “You didn’t bring your guitar?”
                  Genny frowns. “No. I have to go home right after school,” she tells him. “My mom, the Great Disciplinarian, has decided that walking home from your place, in the dark, requires a consequence.”
                  Her mother must have brooded about it all night. She was waiting for Genny when she woke up this morning. She actually stayed long enough to eat a boiled egg at the table while Genny feasted on her usual Fruity Pebbles . Her mother stumbled through all the reasons why not seeing Hunter for a day would be good for Genny. Safety topped her list. Also, she’s been dating
    Hunter for almost two months and her mom thinks it’s time she
    met the ‘in-laws.’
    Her mother laughed when she said it, but Genny doesn’t think it’s funny.
    And then her mother was wondering why, in the three years Genny has known Hunter, their families never sat down to dinner together. Never shared a celebration—birthday or Thanksgiving—and her answers didn’t please her, “You’re too busy and Hunter’s mom is too anti-social.”
                  “You’re grounded?” Hunter says now, his voice filled with disbelief.
                  “Not really. Just for today, anyway. This is her first attempt at follow-through. She usually leaves that up to my dad. So I should be good to go tomorrow.”
                  “Wow. Grounded.”
    “Not really,” Genny stresses, then decides she may as well dive right into the problem. “She wants to meet your mom.”
                  Hunter’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead