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Harlow: Hey! So, I forgot to tell you that if you ever need a ride to school or anything, just let me know. I usually drive myself, but sometimes my dad makes me use the driver. Either way, though, I’m cool with giving you a ride.
A driver? Holy freakin’ what the crap?
Still …
Me: Actually, I’d love a ride. That way I don’t have to rely on my aunt or my cousin or take the bus.
Harlow: Yeah, you definitely don’t want to take the bus. I’ve heard horror stories about them.
Me: I’ve rode the bus before, and I can assure you that all those stories are probably true.
Harlow: I’ll have to take your word for it, because there’s no way in hell I’m ever going to ride the bus.
Me: Smart thinking.
Harlow: That’s because I’m smart.
I’m smiling at this point, and it feels pretty damn good, even if the air is getting a bit chilly and my feet are starting to hurt.
Harlow: Also, I was wondering if you wanted to go to this thing with me this weekend. It’s kind of like a club, but not really.
Me: Sounds a bit sketchy. ;)
Harlow: Not sketchy. Just mysterious.
While her texts are a little strange, it’s not like I have anything better to do this weekend. Plus, it might be fun to get out and do something. And get away from The House of Horrors.
Me: All right, count me in.
Harlow: Sweet! And if you really want, you can invite my brother to go.
Me: Why would I do that?
Harlow: Oh, don’t play stupid. I know you guys clicked at lunch.
She tops off the text with a smoochy face.
Me: We did not! We’re just friends.
Harlow: Hmm … You know there’s an art to that sort of stuff, right?
Me: What sort of stuff?
Harlow: Just being friends with someone you’re attracted to. And my brother, while an artist in many things, does not possess those skills.
I shake my head. She’s getting confused. There’s no way Hunter is attracted to me. And he was the one who said we should be friends.
Me: I really think you’re getting this wrong. Your brother doesn’t see me like that.
Harlow: Believe what you want, but it’s totally true. And if you don’t want to invite him, you don’t have to. I just thought I’d throw the idea out there like a good BFF.
Me: Well, thanks, I guess.
Harlow: You’re totally welcome. I gotta go. My dad is making me organize his files. TTYL
By the time we finish texting, I have a huge smile on my face. But that smile fades when I glance up and see that I’ve arrived at my house. Not that I’m not relieved that I no longer have to walk, but I have this unsettling feeling. Maybe because all the lights are off in the house. Or maybe because Dixie May hasn’t gotten her revenge on me for not meeting her at lunch. Or perhaps it’s because my aunt is pissed off at me.
Yeah, there’s a lot of reasons for me to be skittish right now.
