I smiled back, feeling my face warm up again. I quickly turned away, faking my desire to force the books to cooperate on the old dilapidated shelf, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Yes.â€? His voice was just as smooth as his figure. It sounded like honey sweet notes in a piece of unwritten music. Mrs. Ryans looked up from her papers, and motioned with her hand to him. “You’re name?â€?
“Jet. Jet Page.â€? I looked at him now, the remaining books in my lap. He started shuffling with something in his pockets. A cell phone, I decided.
“Hmm,â€? Mrs. Ryan tapped her chin. “Is that short for anything? A nickname?â€?
“No, just Jet.â€? He glanced at me as he spoke, his voice velvet soft. I managed to keep my breathing steady.
“Well, okay then.â€? Mrs. Ryan agreed with a shrug. She handed him a sheet of paper. “This is your schedule, and I hope you have a wonderful first day.â€?