Free The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) by Dela Page B

didn’t like talking about my past, but I especially didn’t want to come off as a know-it-all, which would only make Zara more suspicious.
    “So, which one do you want to do?” I asked before she could go off and ask someone else to be her partner.
    She glanced around briefly. Everyone else was already pairing up. She sighed and turned to me. “Maybe we can do the archaeology one. It sounds easier. Plus, I’ve got a friend at the library who knows a lot about this sort ofstuff.”
    I leaned back, crossed my arms, and chuckled tomyself.
    “Is this funny?” sheasked.
    “No. It sounds like you’ve got it all workedout.”
    “Well, if you don’t speak up, I won’t know if you don’t want to do thisone.”
    “It doesn’t matter to me. You choose.” Her quirkiness pleased me so much that I was letting her do whatever she wanted. No, what is wrong with you?
    “Okay. Archaeology,” she stated proudly.
    Hot air escaped me in a second laugh. The clueless little doll—this will be fun.
    “What?” sheasked.
    “Are you sure? I mean, the Aztecs were pretty gruesome. Lots of blood.” I delighted in rubbing it in as her face washed with disgust. “It might make for a better report. But like I said, youchoose.”
    It was cute how her nose wrinkled. “You aresick.”
    “No, muñeca , actually I’mnot.”
    She gave me a strange look and opened her textbook. “We’re going with civilization, so start reading.”
    I watched her. It was like watching Gabriella make a decision on which bracelet to wear. Zara wasn’t upset; she was flustered.
    I looked at her book, wondering what wrongful words were in there about my people. “I don’t needthat.”
    “Whatever.” She slammed it shut and pulled a notepad and pencil out of her bag. “Then let’s start with what weknow.”
    The irony was killing me, and I couldn’t help but laughagain.
    “ Now what is so funny, Lucas?”
    “Nothing, nothing. This isn’t going to work. How about you start with what you know, and then maybe I can fill in the gaps,” I suggested.
    “Fine.”
    I looked over her shoulder as she wrote the two things everybody knew about theAztecs.
    “That’s it?” I asked, unimpressed.
    She slammed the pencil down. “Look, you chose thistopic!”
    “I’m not mad. I told you I would fill in the gaps,” I said, laughing as I raised myhands.
    “Yes, you did. So feel free tostart.”
    She shoved the paper at me, but my eyes skipped to the pencil sitting on her lap. She sat there, oblivious.
    “May I?” I asked, reaching forit.
    I knew exactly how to push her buttons; my proximity was one of them. I could hear her heart race as I grabbed the pencil, and I took my time backing away, enjoying the pleasure of teasing her. What surprised me, though, were the hot pulses throbbing through my ownbody.
    I glanced down, ignoring the heat I now felt, and wrote in all caps until I’d filled the entire page. “Done.”
    Zara stared at it in shock. “Lucas, this is half thereport!”
    “Iknow.”
    “Well, what else do you know?” she asked ecstatically.
    “More thanthat.”
    “Then why don’t we finish it rightnow?”
    “Because.”
    “Becausewhy?”
    She waited patiently as I sat there, thinking. “What’s your e-mail address? Maybe that would bebetter.”
    “Um, okay.” She wrote her address down on a scrap piece of paper and handed it to me. “What’syours?”
    “I don’t haveone.”
    “Excuseme?”
    “I don’t have one,” I repeated dryly. It was a lie. I’d had plenty of alias addresses, strictly for college, in my past. But I wanted to give her one, a personal one—with my name—that had never existed before, but I feared if I didn’t watch what I did, I’d be in even bigger trouble.
    She chuckled. “Who doesn’t have an e-mail address?”
    I was working out the mechanics in my head when the professor ended class. I sensed Zara’spanic.
    “Lucas, how are we going to finish this? It’s due next class,” sheasked.
    “