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I turned on the wipers, my brain calming a little.
Okay, okay. He wasn’t that dumb.
He wasn’t dumb at all. He would know Hawaii was in America.
And he didn’t say ‘like’ and ‘totally’.
I hooded my eyes, sighing. And he could be kind.
And sweet.
I hesitated a moment, watching the rain really come down now before I slowed on the empty highway and pulled another U-turn, heading back to him.
He was persistent to the point of exhaustion, but…I couldn’t let him walk home in this. I couldn’t do that to him.
Speeding back to the Cove, I turned into the parking lot again and spotted him kicked back on a parking stump, hood up and ankles crossed.
I pulled up next to him, rolling down the window.
He peered up at me, batting his eyelashes against the rain.
“I really don’t like you,” I said nice and loud so we were clear.
He smiled and pushed himself up, coming up to the truck and climbing up on the step, peering down at me.
“I like that you don’t like me,” he taunted.
He pushed his hood off, and I watched streams of rain cascade down his face.
“So, I’m a challenge then?” I asked. “That’s what all this is really about?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You just make me want to be…”
“Better?” I rolled my eyes at the cliché statement.
But he paused a moment. “More,” he finally said. “No one ever expects more from me.”
I studied him, not having anything to say to that.
I looked down at the phone in his hand instead. “Is someone coming to get you already?”
“No.” He stuffed the phone in his pocket. “I was getting ready to call your brother to report my stolen car.”
I widened my eyes and almost screamed, but I just clamped my mouth shut and gritted my teeth.
Son of a bitch.
“Scoot over,” he said.
I huffed and crawled over the console into my seat, and he opened the door, climbing in.
• • •
“Can I pick you up for school Monday morning?” he asked, turning onto my street.
I unfastened my seatbelt. “No.”
“I just asked to be nice,” he said in a stern tone. “I’m picking you up. I don’t like you walking.”
