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CHAPTERSEVEN
Stella
Toby: Did you manage to sort your car? Do you need a lift to school?
Ican’t help but smile as I stare down at his message.
He was really sweet last night. Way more than I’d ever have given him credit for, seeing as he’s Seb’s friend, and he seems nothing more than a straight-up jerk.
After I emerged from the bathroom, aside from the odd lingering glance, he was the perfect gentleman. I’m not sure if I was grateful or disappointed that he didn’t try anything.
The last guy who touched me needs to be erased by someone else. But equally, I’ve made enough stupid mistakes for at least a week, so I figured it was for the best for now.
We talked about classes, about the future, and thankfully we kept away from the heavy stuff.
It was nice. Easy. And when his cell went off and put an end to our time together, I was kinda gutted that he had to leave.
I’d had a message while we were hanging out from Dad, letting me know that he wasn’t going to make it home, so I was more than happy to have company while I could get it. He promised me that he’d get straight on to sorting out my car and ensuring I had a replacement by first thing this morning.
But as of yet, that hasn’t materialized, and the driveway is empty aside from Calvin and Angie’s cars.
I’ve spent most of the past hour on the phone trying to sort it out, so now not only do I not have a replacement car to get me to school, but I’m about to be very, very late. Toby’s message couldn’t have come at a better time.
Stella: You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.
Toby: Anytime. I’ll be fifteen minutes.
I blow around my room like a whirlwind, dragging on my clothes and throwing some makeup on my face. By the time I fly down the stairs just over seventeen minutes later, I’m a hot mess.
Me being late on day three is one thing, but I don’t want to make Toby late too.
From the way he was talking last night, he loves school—he is in sixth form for his third year, since he restarted after changing subjects from his first—and I’d hate myself for making him miss anything when he’s just trying to help me.
I blow through the kitchen, grabbing a cereal bar for breakfast as Angie watches on.
The gravel of the driveway crunches under my feet as I damn near run toward Toby’s BMW, my bags flying out behind me. I’ve got my first cheer class after school, and I have no idea how I’m going to get there if I still don’t have a car. Uber, I guess. But I’ve yet to try it out here.
I pull the door open, throw my bags inside and quickly follow them, falling into the passenger seat.
“Sorry, I’m late, I—” My first indication that something is wrong is that the locks engage almost the second I start speaking.
The second is the scent.
It’s different from last night.
“What the actual fuck?” I bark, my eyes narrowing on the guy in the driver’s seat.
“Morning, Hellion. How’s it going?”
Despite the fact that I heard the locks, my fingers still twitch to reach out and try them. But I keep myself still, not wanting him to see how desperately I want to escape.
“Where’s Toby?” I spit, feeling even more flustered than I was when I bolted from the house and hating that he’s witnessing me being less than focused and composed.
“Fighting off the hangover from hell.” A smirk twitches at his lips, and it tells me everything I need to know.
“You got him wasted so he couldn’t pick me up, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t know he was definitely going to pick you up so… call it a lucky break.”
