Chapter 22
But then he heard Darian’s voice again, that infectious laugh, and his feet moved towards the sound on their own accord. He took an involuntary step before he could stop himself. Looking around, he spotted the bright blue Yankees cap halfway across the room. Darian was surrounded by students Stacy’s age or older—two girls, one on either side, both leaning a little too close to him, their faces turned towards his, their giggles punctuating everything he said; a handful of tough-looking guys lounging on the table, scowling at each other and around the room, their backs half-obscuring the word woodworkingon the placard nearby.