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“Hell no! That’d be a bit creepy. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea about me.”
I pointedly looked around the van and inclined my head toward Mitch’s apartment across the road. “So what’s the right idea about you?”
He laughed and whacked me over the back of the head. “Hey, there’s snacks and warm Coke in the glove box. Help yourself.”
“Seriously, what is your brilliant, serendipitous plan?”
“Say that five times in a row.” Hunter twisted toward me and the view of 512. “The plan is whenever Mitch shows up, I get out of the car and go over to him. All going well, he’ll land right in my lap and we’ll wheel off into the friggin’ sunset.”
It didn’t sound like the slyest plan, and there was the whole matter of how quickly he’d be able to move once Mitch did show up—but whatever gave Hunter his luck.
“What’s the part of the plan that involves me?” I asked, pulling off my glasses and cleaning them with my shirt. It kept the surroundings comfortably blurry for a few moments.
“You’re the entertainment. Who knows how long we’re going to be here?”
“I barely got three lines of work in last night,” I said, thinking about how I’d fallen asleep with the laptop on and woken up to a string of aaaaaaaa’s where a Roaring Twenties party-description should have been.
I slipped my glasses back on and rested my head back against the headrest. Staring at the ceiling, I planned out my column. I really should be spending the day working on that and my English Lit readings instead of lollygagging here, where I’d been attacked—
And saved!
It was the saving part that had me glancing out of the window again. The grass, the air, the silhouette of a hooded figure had all bled into shades of blue.
This week I’d go back to the Scribe archives to see if I could find more on the mysterious hood. Maybe I’d overlooked something important.
I peeked at Hunter, who sat gripping the wheel, hunched forward to get the best view of the old Victorian apartment and anyone coming or going out of it.
I grabbed a Coke from the glove box and cracked it open. It sprayed over my face and the sticky liquid trickled down my neck.
Hunter snorted. “Good one. You’re a funny guy, Liam.”
I put the Coke between my legs to wipe my glasses a second time. “Funny? I like it.”
He laughed harder and gestured for the Coke. I passed it to him, and he took a large gulp.
“Give me my camera,” Hunter said, and rested the Coke can in the drink holder. “It’s behind my seat.”
I reached over and brought out the professional-looking monster. Hunter unzipped the bag and drew out the camera.
“Okay, now this feels like a stalk out,” I said, shrinking lower in my seat.
“Stake out?” he said, clicking through pictures on the digital screen.
“No, definitely stalk out. This is feeling more and more illegal by the minute.”
He passed me the camera. “Take a look. I think it’s a good shot.”
I stared at my face on the screen, taken at the party where we’d first met. Hunter truly was gifted, this was . . . a great shot. “I look good.”
“Yeah, you do. Quinn thought so too.”
He did? Awkward. What to say to that?
My mother’s somewhat questionable advice came to mind: When in doubt, deflect. So I did. “And, um, what did your sister think?”
Hunter’s gaze sharpened on me for a while, as if he was trying to understand something.
I lifted my brow quizzically.
“I don’t get you.”
“What don’t you get?”
“A lot of things.”
“Then ask me. Sometimes it’s the best way to get the answers you’re looking for.”
“That so?”
I nodded. “For example,” I said, “what happened to your legs?”
Hunter looked at his lap and back to me again. “Some guy beat me up on the school quad after basketball practice one night because I like dick. Bad stroke of the bat left me paralyzed from the waist down. Are you gay?”
“Since I’ve only ever been with women, I’d say not. Did you catch the guy who did it?”
“No. That was the hardest on my family. There was no one to place the blame on, no name to be angry at, to take to court, to send to prison.” He shrugged and went back to staring through the window.
I glanced at the stretch of path I’d been kicked on. How lucky I’d been for The Raven. What might have happened if he hadn’t turned up? I shuddered as Hunter cleared his throat.
“Are you involved with anyone?”
It was strange to share such personal details, but it was somewhat refreshing too. “There’s a girl at work who’d like to go out on a date. I’m still undecided.”
“Does she hit all the right buttons?” He swerved a gaze toward my crotch and winked.
