I instantly dislike him.
“Kit!”his mom berates, looking at me with an apologetic smile.“This is Hallie.She lives over by Green Hills with her aunt and uncle.Can you please take her home?”
It isn’t a question but rather a demand.
Kit turns his lip in disgust, making clear he’d rather do anything than drive a “stray”home.But he doesn’t argue and heads back out the way he came, expecting me to follow.
“It’s okay, sweetie.He’s a safe driver.Just make sure you buckle up.”
Her words are hardly reassuring, but with daylight dwindling, I nod.“Thank you again, Mrs.Rivers.”
“You’re welcome anytime, sweetie.It’s nice for Dandy to have a friend.”
“Mom!”Dandy scolds, embarrassed.
But he shouldn’t be.
Dandy and I walk outside to Kit’s red car.
I quash down that little voice inside that demands I stop being reckless and not get into a car, a car that looks like it belongs on a NASCAR track, with a stranger.
When we get to the car, Kit places his arm across the top of the door, stopping Dandy from getting in.
“Hey!”Dandy exclaims, glaring at Kit.
“Since when do you ride in my car?”
“Since you’re taking my friend home,” Dandy retorts, attempting to shove past Kit.
He doesn’t budge.
“Your girlfriend will be fine.Go back inside and look at your planets.”
“She’s not my girlfriend!”
Kit’s eyes sparkle in mischief.
I look between the brothers, and although I appreciate Dandy’s nobility, he’s wasting time.“I’ll be okay, Dandy.I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”
Dandy stands his ground, but eventually concedes, understanding the dire need for me to be home.
Kit laughs as he rounds the car and opens the passenger door for me.
I quickly hug Dandy before getting in.I toss my bag into the back seat.
I do as Mrs.Rivers said and secure my seat belt, testing it to make sure it’s done up tight.Kit gets into the car, and the moment it revs to life, I grip the leather beneath me.Dandy waves at me through the window before we’re tearing down the street.
This was a terrible idea.
“Where to, Cupcake?”
I turn my head to look at Kit, confused.
His attention never wavers from the road.But I soon realize he’s using that nickname because of the clothes I still wear.Mrs.Rivers was kind enough to wash my dress, but I never got around to changing.
I rattle off my address, not interested in talking.
The clock on the dash just cements how late I am.I hate to think of the punishment that awaits me when I arrive home.
