He looks at me. “What?”
“You’re worried about your dad being mad about the car?”
He shakes his head. “Just forget it.”
“I don’t know why he’d be mad. It’s not your fault it didn’t start. My dad says new cars always have problems, although sometimes I think he just says that as an excuse to only buy used ones. I think he secretly wants to buy new but he doesn’t want to spend the money.”
I look over at Calvin. His eyes are focused on the road, blankly staring at it.
“Calvin?”
He blinks a few times. “Yeah. New cars are great.”
I laugh. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
“Go left at the stop light.” He points to it. “Then follow the road up the hill. My house is at the top. You’ll have to stop at the gate.”
Another gated mansion. Does anyone at my school live in a normal house?
“So you and Briggs,” Calvin says as I drive up the hill. “You aren’t like... doing stuff with him?”
“With Briggs?” I choke out the words, coughing a little. “I hate him. He’s the absolute last person I’d ever be interested in. You saw how he tortured me sophomore year.”
“But then he left you alone.”
“Only because he ran out of ways to torture me.”
“I’m sure he could think of more stuff to do to you.”
Yeah, he could ruin my future if I don’t do what he wants, but I’m not telling Calvin that.
“Why does he keep talking to you?” Calvin asks.
I look at Calvin. “Why do you care? It’s between Briggs and me and I’m handling it.”
“So he’s bullying you again.”
I don’t answer as I slow down at the iron gate at the top of the hill. It’s surrounded by shrubs that are so high I don’t even see the house. “Is this it?”
“Yeah. I can just walk the rest of the way.” He opens his door, even though the truck is still moving.
I slam on the brakes. “Calvin, wait. I’ll drive you.”
He closes his door and points to the left. “The entrance is there.”
I turn and pull up to the metal box in front of the gate. “You want to get out and punch in the code?”
“It’s 2798.”
I’m surprised he gave it to me. He always seems so secretive, like he doesn’t want anyone to know anything about him.
I punch in the code and wait as the gate opens. Looking ahead, I see the sprawling mansion set far back from the road. It’s all white and is a long rectangular shape. It’s not the least bit warm and homey. It almost looks like an institution.
“Nice house,” I say, thinking maybe it’s nicer inside than out.
“I hate it,” he says, looking at it with disgust.
I stop and park in front of the black metal door. “Hope you get your car fixed.”
