She was on the move again.

I need you after class, Felicity's note had said. Now here he was, skulking behind a gold statue of some pompous prick who'd undoubtedly donated a stupid amount of money to get that eyesore installed, pretending to make out, so Felicity could find out what the new girl was up to.

"Stop shuffling," Preston groaned, getting uncomfortably close to a certain body part of Goldie he'd preferred not to touch. No way the guy had that in real life. Or those abs. Ridiculous. This whole situation was ridiculous. "Why are we following Grassy Massy again?"

"I can't see," grumbled Felicity, repositioning him. "And her name is Mazie Greegrass. Don't be sexist."

"Wha—how?"

"Treat women as equals. Twenty-first century, yo," said Felicity, peeking over his nose at the dark-haired girl who appeared to be chilling on the steps, until the bell would ring and she would disappear through an unmarked door that Preston hadn't noticed in three years at Bryson. Felicity had, but it hadn't interested her until this new girl from a new town with no past had shown up and gone in there. They'd since learned that it was a super-secret teacher's lounge, and Felicity simply had to know why this girl kept sneaking in there when teachers would leave for class.

"I so treat all women as equals," huffed Preston. "I'm an equal opportunity hater. If it was a dude, I'd still call him Grassy. Or worse. Grassy Patch. The Grassy Patch Kid. Kale Chunks." He snickered. "Hey, some of these are goo—ouch!"

"Women's rights," she said with a vicious pinch, and quickly slapped one manicured hand over his smart mouth before he could protest. Preston grinned like an idiot. She was cute when she pouted. He slipped his hands around her waist at the same time as she shoved him backward. He nearly fell onto his ass and only recovered by grabbing onto...the sculpture.

"Delusional prick," he muttered, wiping his hand on his shirt. "It can't be real..."

"Quit dawdling. She's inside."

"The things I do for beautiful blondes," sighed Preston dramatically.

Felicity turned and fixed him with eyes as big and round as hockey pucks. "The things you do for love, you mean, because, honey, lover, shnookums?"

"Hmm?"

"If there are any other beautiful blondes in your life," she said with a saccharine smile, "I will hang you by your Kale Chunks in the courtyard, and you can kiss my Grassy Patch goodbye. Am I clear?"

Preston gulped. Damn, he was in love with this woman. "Crystal. Diamond, even. Which is what you are to me, the most beautiful diamond—"

"Alright, enough. We're wasting time. Let's go."

"You don't plan on going in, do you?"

Felicity glanced surreptitiously about, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. When she was certain no one was looking, she pulled all two-hundred pounds of Preston through the secret door.

That note did not prepare him for what they found inside.