Page 29 of Final Drive

Bo: Everything okay? You’ve been quiet today.

Me: Better now. Tyler’s coming with me to dinner with my parents tonight. I’ll fill everyone in after.

Three dots appear, vanish, then appear again.

Bo: You sure that’s a good idea?

Me: No. But it beats going alone.

There’s a longer pause this time.

Bo: Okay. We’ll be here when you get back. All of us.

I read that one twice before I put my phone away and head for class. Tonight is still going to be awful. My mother will make sure of that, but Tyler will be sitting beside me, and when it’s over, I know where I’m going.

CHAPTER NINE

Tyler

Reese is wearing a dress I’ve never seen. Navy, fitted without being tight, a neckline that shows her collarbones and nothing else. She’s put her hair up, which exposes the whole line of her neck, and I have to remind myself to look at her face when she comes down the stairs.

“You clean up nice,” she says.

“So do you.” I’m in a navy suit my grandmother bought me two Christmases ago on the grounds that a man requires proper formalwear. I’ve worn it three times. “Ready?”

“No.” She takes a small clutch off the table by the door. “Let’s go anyway.”

My car is at the curb. I don’t drive it often, since I’d rather ride with Bo or walk when the weather allows, but tonight seemed like the occasion.

Reese stops when she sees it. “That’s yours?”

“Graduation present. From my grandmother.” I open the passenger door. “She has strong opinions about what a Wu should drive.”

“Your grandmother sounds intense.”

“She is.” I wait until she’s in before I close the door. “She’s also why I know how to survive tonight.”

Reese runs her fingers over the leather while the engine comes up. “You don’t seem like the flashy car type.”

“I’m not. She didn’t ask what type I was.” I pull away from the curb. “She decided what I needed and provided it. That’s her love language.”

“Sounds familiar.”

She’s looking out the window with her jaw set, and I let a few blocks pass before I say anything.

“Your parents aren’t going to be happy I’m there.”

“No. They’re not.”

“Good. Their displeasure means we’ve already broken the plan they came with.”

That gets a small smile out of her. “You really have thought about this.”

“I told you. I think about most things.”

The Bellingham Club is exactly what I expected. Old brick, white columns, grounds trimmed to within an inch of their lives. The valet takes my keys with the particular deference reserved for expensive cars, and Reese’s hand finds mine on the way to the entrance. Her fingers are cold.

“They’re going to ask about you,” she says. “About us. About the team.”