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It required Suzanne to be the initiator for this kind of thing, but she thought, I'll wait a few days, so the others can begin to get a sense of what six times a day really means.Then I'll be able to steer the talk and action better.And then we’d have this hour to do something productive—like receive one-on-one tutoring from cute upperclass guys.”“Why, Vee,” I said, “I could’ve sworn you’ve been looking forward to this unit all semester.”Vee lowered her lashes and smiled wickedly.

Becca Fitzpatrick is the author of Black Ice, Dangerous Lies, and the Hush, Hush saga, including Hush, Hush; Crescendo; Silence; and Finale—all of which debuted as New York Times bestsellers.

She graduated college with a degree in health, which she promptly abandoned for storytelling. Hush, Hush 1COLDWATER, MAINE PRESENT DAY I WALKED INTO BIOLOGY AND MY JAW FELL OPEN.

“Science requires us to transform into spies.”Put that way, science almost sounded fun. I didn’t get anything on you.”He turned back and walked toward me.

But I’d been in Coach’s class long enough not to get my hopes up.“Good sleuthing takes practice,” he continued.“So does sex,” came another back-of-the-room comment. Coach never called on him, and he seemed to prefer it that way. Taking my hand, he scribbled something on it before I thought to pull away. He knew more than I wanted to comfortably contemplate. “I’m going to tell Coach he has to switch us back.”“Go for it. ‘Tenth Grader Fights Back.’ Better yet, ‘Seating Chart Takes Slap in the Face.’ Mmm.

“I’ve got quite a collection going of an e Zine columnist who believes there’s truth in eating organic, who writes poetry in secret, and who shudders at the thought of having to choose between Stanford, Yale, and . Passing judgment is your third biggest weakness.”“And my second? But I refused to let Patch think he could intimidate or scare me.

I felt an irrational need to defend myself and decided right then and there I wouldn’t back down until he did.“Do you sleep naked? My mouth threatened to drop, but I held it in check.

We all bit back laughter while Coach pointed a warning finger at the offender.“That won’t be part of tonight’s homework.” Coach turned his attention back to me. He sat slouched one table back, cool black eyes holding a steady gaze forward. I didn’t for one moment believe he just sat there, day after day, staring into space. Barbie and Ken stared back with strangely cheerful smiles. I looked down at the seven numbers in red ink on my palm and made a fist around them. I like it.”At the end of the day, I was the one who took a slap in the face. "A thrilling debut." — Kirkus Reviews"A gripping chiller...

“Nora, you’ve been sitting beside Vee since the beginning of the year.” I nodded but had a bad feeling about where this was going. You can’t pull this kind of stuff now.”Coach hinted at a smile. He was thinking something, but instinct told me I probably didn’t want to know what. I’m Nora.”His black eyes sliced into me, and the corners of his mouth tilted up. Coach said, “Human reproduction can be a sticky subject—”“Ewww! This is kind of personal territory, if you don’t mind.”There was a count of silence and the edge in Patch’s eyes seemed to soften a touch. The bell rang and Patch was on his feet, making his way toward the door.“Wait,” I called out. I wanted to tell him no way was his phone ringing tonight. ”“Have you finished your column for tomorrow’s deadline? She came up beside me, jotting notes on the notepad she carried everywhere. Coach shot down my plea to rethink the seating chart. Fitzpatrick regularly tweaks the tension, resulting in a fast-paced, exhilarating read.

Both of us swear it will continue to hold for the rest of our lives. “In fact, I’ll bet each of you knows the person sitting beside you well enough. This is biology, not English, so don’t even think about fictionalizing your answers. I found the clock on the wall and tapped my pencil in time to the second hand. Flitting a look sideways, I saw that his paper was several lines deep and growing.“What are you writing? ” I repeated, hoping it was my imagination that my voice faltered.“Call me Patch. Call me.”He winked when he said it, and I was pretty sure he was making fun of me.“What do you do in your leisure time? You trust—just all the wrong people.”“And my first? Did he eat up all the time questioning me on purpose? Why is it that when she looks into his black eyes her body stops listening to her brain? To Nora Grey, Patch seems like the completely unexpected, picture-perfect guy; handsome, friendly, attentive.

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