“You’re too late. My shift’s over.”
“Perfect,” he says without even blinking. “Then I’m just in time to give you a ride home.”
I should say no. This entire day has had me on edge, courtesy of my mysterious texter. It would be foolish to get closer to Everett when everything about me could unravel with one word.
“Hi, bud,” JP greets his son. “How was practice?”
“Good. Coach is riding us hard, though. We’ve got that rivalry game this week.”
“You’ll win,” JP says confidently.
“Hope so.” Everett tugs me toward him. “Anyway, I’m stealing your employee. Later, bro.”
Snickering, his dad holds up his hand. “Only if you take this bag of dog food home. One second.”
JP ducks into the back again, returning with a massive bag of kibble that he piles into Everett’s arms. Everett heaves the bag over one shoulder like it weighs no more than a feather.
“What are we doing for dinner?” he asks JP.
“I don’t care. You’re human. You can feed yourself.”
I’m laughing as we head outside. “I think your dad loves dogs more than people.”
He laughs too, but there’s a sharpness to it. “Oh, for sure.”
“Has it always been that way?”
“No, not always. I think the shelter was his way of coping after losing Mom. He sort of threw himself into it.” Everett pauses. “I guess he figured dogs would never leave him. People do.”
My heart clenches. “That’s really sad.”
“It’s all good. He’s happy. The dogs are happy.”
Everett tosses the bag into the bed of the truck, then opens the passenger door for me. The drive home is filled with his random stories and jokes, him trying to get me to laugh in that way of his. It’s really nice, how easy everything is with him.
Ten minutes later, he stops in the Shipley driveway, turning to me with a boyish smile. “Here you go. Home, safe and sound.”
“Thanks for the ride.”
He leans in, his hand slipping up to rest lightly on my cheek. For a second, I hold my breath, unsure if I want to pull away or just let it happen. I choose the latter, letting his lips meet mine. The kiss is warm and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world. A slow heat fills my chest as I melt into him.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes hold a confident glint. “Go out with me again.”
I hesitate, every alarm in my head screamingbad idea. But my lips have other ideas, forming the word “Okay.”
sixteen
Potential Burial Sites
For the first time in my life, I feel like a normal teenager. Even in Allentown, where hiding my identity wasn’t as imperative as it is here in Starling, I kept to myself. I had one family member—Gran. One good friend—Jess. And one boy I occasionally hooked up with—Marco. That was the extent of my social life, and it was just how I liked it.
Now I have an entire family unit, I’m dating the quarterback of the Crockett High Falcons, and I have friends—plural—at school. It’s times like these, when I’m walking down the hall with Everett to last period, laughing at some corny joke he told, that I manage to forget how my father killed seven women.
Everett takes my hand like that’s totally normal, and as we pass by Sofia and her friends I hear a gasp in our wake.
“Are you fucking kidding me,” one of them hisses. Sofia’s friend Karlee, I think.
If Everett heard that, he doesn’t let on. “I forgot to tell you, my grandparents are going out of town in a couple weeks. They have a place by the lake, so I’m throwing a party.”
