Page 36 of The Wolf Prince

Athletic.

The sort of man who walks into a room and expects everyone to notice. And they usually do.

Mostly because he's incredibly loud.

Coach Williams doesn't speak. He announces.

Everything.

And he's domineering in a way he probably thinks is sexy.

I do not.

I know this because Dora set us up for coffee over the summer. One date. That was all it took.

The coffee itself wasn't terrible. Mostly because there were other people around. Then he walked me home.

And slobbered all over me.

I wish I were exaggerating. I mean, I was willing to try. But first kisses are telling.

Rule number one, they should be on the lips.

Call me old-fashioned.

I don't care.

But a first kiss should not involve a man licking your chin.

It's weird.

And wet.

And yuck.

Then he got pissy when I wouldn't invite him inside. As if one cup of coffee and an unwanted facial bath somehow entitled him to access to my bedroom.

Like I was going to do that.

I mean, really.

He called the next day. Then texted. And texted again.

He's asked me out at least once a week ever since.

I've refused every time.

Well, sort of.

Fine.

I've made excuses every time. There's a difference, and it sucks, but remember the whole hates confrontation thing?

Yeah. Still true.

So, instead of saying Fuck off, I say things like Sorry, I can't go to dinner, parent conference.

Or Movies? Oh, darn. I'm grading.