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A Batch Made in Heaven
Excerpt:
As I set a cup of fruit salad on my tray, the words “mentor program” drifted down the lunch line, catching my ear. I peered around, searching for a face to go with the voice.
Finally, my eyes settled on Flynn Winston.
He was in eighth grade, a year ahead of me and Kalli. His curly dark-auburn hair, striking indigo eyes, and tall, lanky stature made him easy to spot at our school.
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I had a hard time not noticing Flynn in general. It wasn’t just that he was cute (okay, very cute). He was the son of Mr. Winston—as in the owner of A Batch Made in Heaven. He often worked at Batch after school, ringing up customers at the sales counter.
As I watched Flynn now, I imagined us working together.
He’d be showing me how to work the cash register, and I’d instantly master the task. Then he’d smile at me, and our shoulders would brush, and—
“I can’t believe I have to put up with some seventh grader.” Flynn’s words were loud enough to jar me from my daydream, and