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MIA
I was a total asshole. I’m sorry. Stress from finals, all that shit.
I get it, I type out before glancing up at Zeke. He’s busy driving, humming to the radio, and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. It’s nice, seeing him like this. He’s relaxed, almost happy. I know he’s looking forward to his long rides on the Harley, one of the few things Dad lets him do once I’m in for the night. He shipped it back to the house a few days ago rather than leave it in the garage at the condo. I wouldn’t want to leave it sitting around either, not if I was ninety minutes away on a good traffic day.
It’s a shame there’s no way Dad would ever let me go for a ride with him because I would love nothing more. But we have plenty of time for that once we get back.
And then you were so cool during the presentation. Nobody would ever know anything happened.
Yes, and I had to get Zeke to swear on his motorcycle he wouldn’t start anything during that final class—and that if Dean did, he would walk away rather than fight back. They both behaved themselves, and I’m still grateful.
That’s what needed to be done, I tell Dean, typing on my phone and glad I’m sitting in the back seat so Zeke can’t see. It’s all over now.
The fact is, I want to continue my friendship with Posey and Zoe, but I wouldn’t care if I never saw Dean again. I will, I’m sure, but it’s not like I’m going to seek him out on campus. Any chance we ever had of being good friends was ruined when he looked at me like he did that day. He was so nasty, too. I’m willing to forgive and forget a lot of things, but that?
Are you home yet?he asks.
Not yet. On the way. Are you?
Yeah, I left first thing in the morning. Then another message. I’m meeting up with somebody later, too. I’m looking forward to it.
I bite back a knowing laugh. So this is how it’s going to be, huh? He wants to make sure I know I’m not the only fish in the sea. Yeah? Somebody special?
“Everything okay back there?” Zeke looks at me in the mirror, and though I can’t see his entire face, I know he’s smiling by looking at his eyes. Right now, their gray is soft and comforting.
And as much as I love to see that, it’s a problem. “Hey, careful. You can’t go around smiling at me while we’re at home. You have to go back to being your grumpy self.” I scowl at him as an example.
“Right, what was I thinking?” He rolls his eyes before lowering his sunglasses, then he grunts. “Better?”
“That’s more like it.” Sure, we’re joking about it, but we both know how serious the situation is. Nobody can find out about us.
It’s going to be an interesting break, finding ways to sneak around. And I’m not going to waste energy telling myself we won’t, like we’ll be able to keep our hands off each other the next three weeks. I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities.
There’s a new message from Dean. It’s one of those things that kind of got left hanging a while ago, and I’m hoping we can get things moving again. He sends an emoji, too, a hand with fingers crossed. I send it back to him.
Almost home, I tell him. Good luck. I’m sure we’ll talk before the holiday.
“You ready for this?” Zeke asks, and I nod enthusiastically. I might have dreaded going home if it wasn’t for him. No, he’s not going to outwardly break any of my father’s rules, but I’m sure I’ll be able to bend them a little. Plus, Christmas. Who doesn’t love Christmas?
My phone buzzes. I didn’t expect Dean to have the last word. By the way, I meant to tell you something. I found a bunch of stuff when researching our project that I thought you might be interested in.
I send him a question mark in response. “What’s up?” Zeke asks. He’s always watching, isn’t he?
“Nothing. Just talking with Blair.” I don’t like lying, even about something as dumb as this, but what’s the alternative? I don’t want him getting pissed and driving us off the road only a few miles from home.
I sent it to your school email. I didn’t want to include it in the project because I didn’t want to freak you out. Well, that doesn’t sound good. What could he have found that would freak me out?
Was it about my father? No, that’s not possible. Besides, we don’t even have the same last name. Even if my suspicions are correct and Dad is into some shady stuff, Dean couldn’t have made the connection. Let me guess, it’s something about Scarface, right? I’ll have to check it later.
“Here we are,” Zeke murmurs. “Let’s get serious.”
“Yeah. We have to get into character.” I shake out my arms and hands, rolling my head from side to side. “I hate you. You’re the worst. I want to curb stomp you.”
“Wow. That rolled off your tongue way too easy. Should I be concerned?”
“I hate how good you are at eating me out,” I continue.
“Whoa, careful.”
