I turn away, away from Devlin, away from the school. As I look out across the mostly vacant parking lot, I don't know what I think. I'm thinking Devlin's trying to tell me that he's gay, that he'd like to be more than Ryan's best friend. But then why would he try and set me up with him? Much as that doesn't make any logical sense, the only other explanation is so disturbing I can't even look at Devlin when I say, "Please tell me you don't have a thing for Jacquelyn Daly."

His silence is like a tangible entity.

When I face him again he is running his hand along the edge of his football helmet, slowly, contemplatively. My grandma always says there's a lid for every pot - meaning there's someone for everyone. I should respect Devlin's feelings, but the noise comes out of my mouth before my etiquette can activate. "Ewww. Why?"

"Hey, you know, I have a lot of trouble understanding Ry's appeal, ok?"

"Allow me to point out," I say instead of correcting his misconception about me crushing on Ryan, "that given your - ahem - interest in Jacquelyn, you may not be entirely objective about her wardrobe choices."

Devlin fights a smile and gives me a friendly shove with his shoulder. "Wow, it's hard to understand how you haven't quite found your place surrounded by a dozen friends."

He points to the paper listing my demands for helping him with his sociology project. "I don't have any problem with any of those. But, regardless what I think about Jacquelyn, I'm still a guy. And this -" A wave of his hand indicates my baggy tee and soft jeans "- does not attract. Sunday is Harvest Fair at Cassel Farms. It's the first event on our target list. Do you think you could come up with something a little more..."

"Slutty?" I snap.

His eyes slip closed and he inhales deeply as though the air is filled with patience. "Something that makes you look like you have a figure."

I may not be a fashion plate - seriously, why dress to sit in a classroom all day - but I'm still enough of a girl to be insulted. "I have a figure. I have a nice figure," I say.

Devlin's eyes lock with mine, and his cheeks curve as he smirks. "Prove it."