Jonah is at his desk grading papers when I walk in.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning.” I have him for first period, so I toss my backpack in my usual seat, but I take the seat right in front of his desk.

“Did Jenny get Elijah dropped off with your mom?” he asks.

“Yep. Cute as ever.”

“He really is. Looks just like his daddy.”

“Ha. No. He looks just like me,” I correct.

Jonah stacks his pages together and scoots them aside. Before he gets into the whole film project thing, I let my curiosity get the best of me. “Why’d you break up with Aunt Jenny in high school?”

Jonah lifts his head quickly, his eyebrows raised. He laughs nervously, like he doesn’t want to have this conversation with me. Or with anyone. “We were young. I’m not sure I even remember.”

“Mom wasn’t happy when you got Aunt Jenny pregnant last year.”

“I’m sure she wasn’t. It wasn’t very well thought out.”

“Kind of hypocritical of her, considering they had me at seventeen.”

Jonah shrugs. “It isn’t hypocritical unless the action she’s objecting to occurs after the objection.”

“Whatever that means.”

“It means people who make mistakes usually learn from them. That doesn’t make them hypocrites. It makes them experienced.”

“Didn’t they teach you in college not to dole out life lessons before the morning bell rings?”

Jonah leans back in his seat, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You remind me of your mother when she was your age.”

“Oh, God.”

“It’s a compliment.”

“How?”

Jonah laughs. “You’d be surprised.”

“Stop insulting me.”

Jonah laughs again, but I’m only half kidding. I love my mother, but I do not aspire to be my mother.

He grabs one of two folders on his desk and hands it to me. “Please fill this out, even if you don’t end up doing it. If you place in the top, it’ll be great to put on your film school applications. Not to mention you’ll have footage for your acting reel.”

I open the folder to look through it. “So who is it that’s looking for a partner?”

“Miller Adams.” My head snaps up when Jonah says his name. He continues speaking. “When you guys were talking about him last night, I remembered reading in the notes from the teacher who sponsored this program last year that Miller was on a team that placed. Which means he has the experience. I asked him to sign up this year, but he ultimately turned it down. Said he’s got a lot going on and it’s a big commitment. But if the two of you do it together, he might be interested.”

I’m not gonna lie—I was secretly hoping it was Miller Adams, especially because he told me he was into film. But was Jonah not at the same dinner I sat through last night?

“Why would you try to pair me up with him on a project after what my dad said?”

“I’m a teacher, not a matchmaker. Miller is the perfect partner on this. And he’s a good kid. Your father is misinformed.”

“Either way, Dad set hard boundaries.” That I already know I’m not going to follow.

Jonah stares at me thoughtfully for a second, then crosses his arms over his desk. “I know. Listen, it’s just a suggestion. I think the project will be good for you, but if your dad doesn’t want you to do it, there’s not much I can do. But . . . you also don’t need a parent’s permission to sign up. You only need it for submission, and that’s still several months away.”

I kind of like that Jonah is encouraging me to disobey my father. Maybe he and Aunt Jenny really are perfect for each other.

The door opens, and Miller Adams walks in. Thanks for the heads-up, Jonah.

The first thing I notice are his crimson, puffy eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept. His shirt is wrinkled; his hair is a mess.

Miller looks from Jonah, to me, to Jonah. He remains by the door and tosses a hand in my direction while looking at Jonah. “This is who you want me to sign up with?”

Jonah nods, confused by Miller’s reaction. I’m not confused by it. I’m used to him not wanting anything to do with me.

“Sorry, but that’s not gonna work out,” Miller says. He looks at me. “No offense, Clara. I’m sure you understand why.”

I guess his girlfriend really is the reason. “I gathered when you unfollowed me on Instagram five hours after following me.”

Miller walks farther into the room and drops his backpack on a desk and plops down into the chair. “According to Shelby, I shouldn’t have followed you in the first place.”

I laugh. “Your girlfriend broke up with you because I gave you a ride in one hundred and two–degree weather. There’s something off about that.”

“She broke up with me because I lied to her about it.”

“Yeah. And you lied to her about it because you knew she’d break up with you if she found out. Therein lies the issue.”

Jonah inserts himself into our conversation by leaning forward and looking back and forth between us. He pushes back his chair and stands. “I need coffee.” He tosses the other folder on Miller’s desk and heads for his classroom door. “You two figure this out and let me know what you decide by the end of the day.”

Jonah leaves, and it’s just Miller and me left in the room, staring at each other. He looks away and browses through the contents of the folder.

He really could have used those extra minutes of sleep. I feel bad Jonah called him in early for this. He looks like a truck ran over him between me dropping him off at his house yesterday and him waking up this morning. I can tell whatever fight he and Shelby had, it’s taken a toll on him.

“You look really heartbroken,” I say.

“I am,” he says with a dull tone.

“Well . . . not all is lost. Heartbreak builds character.”

That makes Miller laugh, although it’s a dry laugh. He closes the folder and looks at me. “If Shelby finds out I’m working with you on this film submission, she’ll never forgive me.”

“So that’s a yes?”

Miller doesn’t laugh at that. In fact, he seems a little bummed that I’m making jokes at his expense. He’s obviously not in the mood. And honestly, I kind of don’t blame Shelby for dumping him. If my boyfriend lied to me about being in the car with another girl, then followed that girl on Instagram, he’d be my ex-boyfriend too.

“Sorry, Miller. I’m sure she’s great. If I can help in any way—maybe back up your story—let me know.”

Miller smiles at me appreciatively and then stands up, heading for the classroom door. He leaves the folder on the desk. “You should do the project anyway.”

I nod, but I don’t really care to sign up alone. For a few hopeful seconds, I was excited I might get to work with Miller on the project. Now that I had a taste of that thought, every other option tastes bitter.

Seconds later, Miller is gone.

I stare at the folder on his desk, then grab it and fill out the form, anyway. You never know—Shelby and Miller may not get back together, and it would suck if he didn’t sign up just because his girlfriend has jealousy issues.