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“Tomorrow,” I amend quickly. “Let me take you out. Since you’re going out with ‘Greased Lightning’ and all.”

“For the last time, he is NOT a greaser.”

“Well, then let me take you out as a last chance to slide in some more practice.”

“Our last date?”

A lump forms in my throat—heavy and stupid and hopeful. “Our last date.”

She smiles. It hits me right in the chest. “Better make it a good one, Turner. I’ve been told to raise my standards, you know?”

If all goes right on my end, her standards should be so high that Fabio—or whatever his name is—couldn’t reach them with a twenty-foot ladder.

Chapter Twenty-Five Flick

I am in the dilemma to end all dilemmas.

I should’ve known this would happen; my day was doomed from its very start.

This morning I woke up late, horribly uncharacteristic of me, and ran out of the house roadrunner style—I think I left a Felicity-shaped hole in the front door behind me, because Riley texted me immediately after I peeled out of the driveway.

You all good?

Better than ever! Just a busy day at work this morning, I replied, heavy on the lied part, and then tried to tell myself I wasn’t lying by lying all over again.

Not even an hour into my shift at the shelter, Rowen asked me to show him, once again, how to “print to save as PDF” on his laptop.

I trudged my way to the front, body burning up, and ran through the same steps that I have ten other times this week. Just as he was about to say thank you, my boss looked up at me and frowned.

“What?” I asked, but it sounded like I was on .5 speed and maybe on a slightly scratched record.

“You look horrible.”

“Don’t say that, I have a date tonight.”

I didn’t say that it’s with Knox, mostly because that felt like a whole lot to drop in this million-degree room, and also because I did not want to hear “I told you so” from the world’s biggest know-it-all.

His frown deepened. “When did you get old enough to date? Aren’t you like fifteen?”

“Eighteen, and as soon as I realized I’m the only senior that’s going to graduate a vir—”

“Stop.” He plugged his fingers to his ears. “La, la, la. I don’t want to hear it.”

As soon as I raised my hands in surrender, his hands dropped back down.

“The point is, I can’t look horrible today.”

I’m going to need military-grade concealer for these eye bags tonight.

Rowen hummed. “Seriously, kid, you’re burning up.” He pressed his knuckles to my forehead and his frown deepened. “Does your aunt not pay any attention to you at home?”

I have a feeling the question was just an excuse to bring up Riley, but I was too tired to let the topic of those two dancing around each other make an appearance. I was too out of it to point out his very obvious Riley-baiting.

“She didn’t have a chance. I woke up late and had to run out without really saying goodbye.”

“What’s she doing today?”

I wanted to tease him by saying she was out with a distant lover, gallivanting through fields as they fed each other chocolate crepes and listened to “Careless Whisper,” but the exhaustion that had seeped into my bones didn’t allow that.