Page 85 of Within These County Lines

“Hmm.” I drum my fingers along the steering wheel “Would you rather only eat Skittles for the rest of your life, or never have fruity candy again but eat any chocolate?”

He scoffs. “Easy. Skittles.”

“Really? That was quick.”

“No need for contemplation. The heart knows what it wants.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “Does it? I feel like the heart gives mixed signals.”

“Of course.” He stretches his legs. “It’s the only thing that knows what’s best for you. If I listened to my heart years ago and came out, I might not be going on ten lonely years of invisibility and driving down a backroad toward West Virginia to find a strange girl I never met before.”

I grip the wheel tighter. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“I always do what my heart tells me to now.” He wipes his hand down his face, resetting his expression. “Would you rather have Dara be like us or not like us?”

I huff. “That’s a serious one.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” He takes a sip of sparkling water. The bubbles fizzle against his lips.

“I’d rather have her be like us. Because then we’ll have more people on our side to help break this curse and move on with our lives once and for all.”

The sip of water catches in his throat, sending him into a fit of coughs and chest pats. “That sounds so final.” His voice is hoarse. “What does moving on mean to you?”

“Getting out of Penango.”

“And never coming back?” His grip tightens around the can.

“Hopefully not for a long while.”

We cross beneath the Welcome to West Virginia: Wild and Wonderful sign. The only thing that changes across the border are the roadside weeds. They’re unrulier, attempting to overtake the pavement like slush after a snowstorm.

Xander shifts in his seat. “If you had to—” He clears his throat. “Would you rather kiss me or your ex-boyfriend, Murray?”

My grip on the wheel falters. I turn to him, my pulse hammering. We meet eyes, but I quickly get distracted by his plump lips chomping on a Starburst; the juices exploding from the red candy coat his mouth with an extra layer of sweetness. Those lips have taunted me all summer. Now they’re right there, waiting for me to try them like a freshly picked summer peach.

I adjust my shorts. “Is this a serious one or a joke?”

He shrugs. “It’s however you think of it.”

The hum of the highway vibrates beneath us. My knees begin to bounce.

“I’d never kiss Murray again.”

“So . . .”

“So, then . . . you.”

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face. He zeroes in on my lips and ignites a fire beneath my cheeks.

“Do you want to go again?” he asks, leaning across the center console.

I scratch my head. “Would you . . .”

I want to ask, Would you rather kiss me now or later? But our unknown future dams the words from leaving my mouth. What if he is tricking me like Whitley said? What if we kiss and the curse becomes permanent? I can’t risk that.

The uncertainty turns my words around.

“Actually, let’s just listen to music,” I say flatly.