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“Of course we’re good.”
“Wait.” He stops walking again and turns to face me, causing me to stop and roll my eyes in annoyance.
“When you slipped and said that Luke saved you, did you mean . . . ?”
“Yes, it was that Luke,” I reply, referring to Annalisa’s brother Luke. “Mason. It’s not important. Let’s just go, I’m starving.”
“Does Anna know?” he asks, clearly not done with the twenty-one questions.
“No one knows. And we’re going to keep it that way.”
“Not even Aid—”
“Especially not Aiden. We’re keeping the same deal as before, Mason. I forgive you, and in return, you drop it and don’t tell anyone. I meant it when I said I don’t want any fights breaking out over me. Aiden knows that I met Luke at the Tracks, but not the circumstances of our meeting.”
“If Aiden finds out about it, and I didn’t tell him, he’ll be furious.”
“He won’t find out,” I promise.
Since it’s been a while since school let out, there are not a lot of people left in the parking lot. This makes it really easy to spot the black Challenger parked beside my car, with Aiden himself patiently leaning against it.
“Guess you don’t need a ride home. I’ll see you later?” Mason says.
“For sure. Thanks anyway, Mason.”
He and Aiden exchange that bro head-nod thing across the parking lot, and Mason heads the opposite way to his SUV.
As I head over to Aiden, a mixture of emotions swirl inside me. I haven’t seen or talked to him since Friday night, and I can’t believe how much I’ve missed him.
“Hey, I can’t believe you skipped the calculus test,” I joke to break the ice once I reach him.
Aiden doesn’t react, doesn’t even look amused, he just straightens up from where he’s leaning on his car. “Here are your keys.”
He holds out his arm, and I look at my keys, dangling from his hand.
“Sure, thanks,” I say, confused by his hostility as he drops the keys into my hand.
He nods and turns around to go, but I quickly grab his arm to stop him.
“Hey, are you okay?” I drop my arm and look at him, concerned.
“Peachy,” he says, voice laced with sarcasm and annoyance.
My eyebrows draw together. “Aiden, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Amelia.” But his tone leads me to believe that something is, in fact, wrong.
“Aid—”
“I’ve got to go,” he interrupts me, and this time I don’t stop him as he turns, jumps in his car, and takes off.
Aiden’s never like that, especially not toward me. Something has to be wrong. Maybe he’s stressed about the whole no more Tracks thing? Maybe he’s worried about w
here to find money? No, he was fine with it when I asked him about it. He was fine when we talked at my house on the porch that night. It was after—oh my God. I knew it. He totally hates me.
I ruined everything. He regrets kissing me. My heart tightens, like someone has plunged their hands into my chest and is slowly squeezing.
I can’t have him hate me. I know when I leave he probably will, but that day is not today. Stubbornness and impulsiveness driving my actions, I hop in my car and drive in the direction of Aiden’s house. He’s going to talk to me whether he likes it or not.
