Dieter stabbed a finger at the boy standing stock-still as a petrified log next to Abrial, the thin strands hanging down from his blue headband fluttering in the wind. His warm eyes seemed to have been shocked cold, his shoulders hunched by his ears and his arms plastered to his sides. He didn't even seem to be breathing from fear.
Abrial's head whirled around. She stared at Wu Dafu, who stared back at her in a wordless panic, cheeks painted bright pink.
What did that asshole Dieter mean, like?
He likes you.
He couldn't mean that kind of 'like', the one Shin Minyeo had used to tease her about Finley months ago. That couldn't be right. Wu Dafu was her friend. He called her 'Teacher'. They ate together and sparred and climbed trees. They joked and told stories. How could he think of her like…like that, then? No, that wasn't right. Dieter must mean something else.
