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I blink in surprise when I realize they’re talking about Quinn andme.
Pretty girl.
I wish the window next to me reflected more than my wide eyes and pale face. Pretty? Am I pretty?
No one has ever in my life called me a pretty girl. Humility is one of the basic tenets of my upbringing, and I have never thought of myself aspretty.
It’s a bit unnerving, but I’m strangely flattered. It doesn’t matter that these men are obviously inebriated and probably haven’t even gone tobedthe night before.
“Hands off, frat boy, this chick’s mine,” Quinn says staunchly. She crosses her arms on her chest.
“Oh, so we’re gonna play it that way,” one of the guys says, shaking his head. “Let’s go to the back, boys.”
They manage to tumble their way to the back of the bus. Quinn smiles and looks at me. “Do you trust everyone you see?” she asks with narrow eyes. “You look so sweet and innocent, and I need to know just exactly how much I’m gonna have to tuck you under my wing.”
I look out the window and swallow the lump in my throat before I answer.
“Actually, no,” I say softly, as the door to the bus shuts. “I trust no one.”
