Burnout (Jack 'Em Up Book 0) (6 page)

I returned his mysterious smile and pressed the door closed with a click. I felt his eyes boring into my back as I turned to my car and opened the door. I slid into my driver’s seat and let myself look. His smile was gone. In its place was a fierce look I couldn’t name. Desire? Hope? Fear?

Yeah. I knew the feeling.

I offered him a brief wave then backed out. As I drove into traffic, I checked my rearview mirror. He was exactly where I’d left him, his car idling, headlights blazing a path in the darkness.

“Where have you been, young lady?”

I grimaced at my father’s condemning tone as I spun to face him from the top of the stairs. Damn. I’d hoped to sneak in quietly. I pasted on a contrite expression. “Out. With . . . friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yes.” God, I hated to lie. But I wanted to get caught with Blake even less. That would be ugly. “With Rachel.”

My father studied me, but when his cell phone rang, he nodded and walked away.

Phew.

I closed myself into my bedroom and plopped on my bed. Was I being dumb, making too much out of this? It was only one date. Nothing.

Liar
, my heart called out. It felt like a lot more than a date. And we were going out again. Well, if he was serious.

A brisk knock preceded my mother barging in. “You’re back,” she said, stating the obvious.

I plucked at the hem of my sweater, watching as she paced in front of my gleaming mahogany dresser, stopping to lift the cover of my Anatomy book then letting it flop back down as she faced me. “John called while you were out.”

“John?”

Displeasure splashed down her features. “John Hughes. The Councilman’s son.”

“Oh. Why?”

She rolled her eyes. “To speak with you, of course. I hope to ask you out on a date.”

I gaped like a fish. “A date?”

With a sour face, she headed for the door. “I left his number downstairs. Call him back.” Then she was gone in a whoosh of Chanel.

I thought of John’s perfect, blond good looks. Maybe any other day, I would’ve found him attractive. Or at least tried, to please my parents. But not today. It was impossible with Blake Travers’ brooding brown eyes swimming around my subconscious.

Blake

I
let myself in the house after dropping Delilah off. I stood for a second to adjust my eyes to the dark, my nose to the stench. Sweat, alcohol, cigarettes. Misery.

It was still cool, but not as cold as that morning. Maybe Dad had worked on the heater. I hung my jacket up on the rack by the door and ran a hand down my face. I was suddenly tired. So tired.

“Where’ve you been?” Dad’s quiet voice came from the living room.

I squinted and saw him lying on the sofa. “Out with a friend.” I padded down the hall toward my room, not waiting to see what else he had to say.

Before I got to my bedroom, soft snoring sounded from the living room. I shut my door and locked it before flipping on a light. I dumped my wallet and keys on the dresser, my eyes catching on the photo of me, my brother, and my mom at a Boy Scout event.

I picked up the dusty frame and swiped a finger over my mother’s face. She was always smiling. Always happy with her boys. And she’d done everything with us. Everything that a dad usually does. She’d taught us to ride bikes and swim, took us to play baseball, to every activity we wanted, all while Dad worked like a dog.

Those had been happy times. The best.

As I set the picture back down, I wondered what she’d think of what we’d become. Dad drinking himself into oblivion because he couldn’t stand to be without her. My brother eaten up with anger, feeling abandoned by both parents. And me . . . I didn’t know what I was. Hopeless, I guess. Burned out, for sure.

My phone buzzed with a text.

Thanks for dinner : )

I smiled automatically as Delilah’s face danced in my mind. Wonder what Mom would think about her? She’d probably think she was sweet and wonderful, because it was true. She’d also probably say I should go for it . . . that I should be happy. That I deserved her.

But as I glanced around my sparse room, to my bent up mini-blinds and rumpled, old bedding, I realized that simply wasn’t true. Not anymore.

I ducked through the sleety drizzle into school on Monday morning. I refused to think I was in any hurry to see a particular blue-eyed beauty.

“Hey, Blake.”

I spun from my open locker, dopey smile on my face. It slid off. “Oh. Hey, Alexa.”

Her assessing eyes slid up and down my body. “How are you?”

“Good.” I watched Jesse’s little sister, Leta, weave through the crowded hallway until she joined us with a shoulder bump for her best friend, Alexa.

“Hi, Blake.”

I tipped my head in greeting, my gaze suddenly glued to Delilah as she strolled our way, her eyes glued to the ground. God, I wish I’d kissed her.

She looked up and caught me staring. A soft smile whispered across her lips and I would’ve sworn I smelled sunshine as she passed.

“Well?” Leta’s voice carried with a touch of irritation.

“What?” I turned my attention back to her.

She rolled her eyes and glanced at Alexa. “I asked if you’re coming to our Christmas party?”

“I dunno. Am I invited, short stuff?” I grinned at the girl I’d teased since she was in pigtails.

“Yes. Though I don’t know why, troublemaker.” Her hazel eyes brightened.

I nodded as the first warning bell of the day rang. “Sure. I’ll be there.”

Both girls grinned, and as they walked off, I heard Alexa murmur something about mistletoe and they giggled.

I grabbed my books and slammed my locker. Hustling into Government class, I studied Delilah with open scrutiny as I made my way to my seat. Her long, chestnut hair was braided today. A snug purple sweater hugged her curves. Bright, open blue eyes watched me in turn, making me stupidly wish I had shaved and put on something besides an old hoodie.

I sat and made a show of pulling out some paper and a pen. “Hey,” I said when I finally looked over at her.

She glanced up from her desk. “Hey.”

I opened my mouth to deliver some witty, flirty remark, but Mrs. Dunbar lowered the lights and moved to the TV in the front of the room, saying something about a film on foreign policy. Groan.

About five minutes in, I was bored to tears. I glanced over at Delilah, her profile outlined by shadows in the dark room. I saw her bite her lip, but she refused to look at me.

Grinning, I picked up my pen and wrote her a note.

Hit any more cars lately?

I waited until Mrs. Dunbar was engrossed in something at her desk, then I folded up the note and passed it across the aisle, letting it flutter onto Delilah’s desk. Her eyes peeked down at the paper then over to me.

I grinned.

She shook her head and opened the note, a broad smile blossoming as she read. She grabbed her own pen, wrote something and passed it back. I made sure our hands brushed and her eyes pinged up to mine.

I unfolded the paper.
Nope. I’m a one car kinda girl.

Really? Any particular kind of car you’re looking for?

I imagined the soft blush rising on her cheeks by the expression on her face. She thought a moment, then wrote back.
Fast ones.

Holy shit. I checked her face to see if she was toying with me. She had her eyes glued to the television, no expression.

I happen to know of one of those. Wanna go for a ride?

She glanced down, then up with a puzzled expression.
I’ve ridden in your car.

That was just down the street to Mario’s. I mean a cruise.

A cruise?

Yes. A cruise. Where you blast the music, roll down the windows to let the wind run through your hair, and just GO!

She smiled.
Isn’t it a little cold for that?

I’ll keep you warm.

Mrs. Dunbar flipped on the lights as the film ended. After Delilah read my note, she looked up, the blush I’d been imagining now staining her neck and cheeks, clear to her little ears. Why I was playing with fire, I had no idea. I couldn’t seem to help myself.

I held my breath and waited until she scribbled something and passed me back the paper.

When?

Delilah

I
couldn’t believe it. I was sneaking out of the house at ten-thirty on a school night. To go cruising with Blake.

I had no idea where all that flirtiness came from, but it felt good. Freeing. I didn’t expect it to go anywhere though. Blake was fun to be around, definitely something to look at, and he made my heart race . . . yeah, that part was a problem. But, he’d offered me a chance at a moment of freedom, outside the uptight walls of my home and my father’s overly strict rules, so I took it.

But, as I stood shivering in my sweater and light jacket at the end of my street waiting for him, I kinda wished I’d stayed in bed. It would’ve definitely been safer.

A rumble in the distance caught my attention, just before an electric blue blaze of power pulled up in front of me. Blake rolled down his window and the sound of some kind of heavy metal music poured out. He grinned and lowered the volume. “Ready to go?”

He looked adorable in a white T-shirt layered with a plaid flannel shirt and leather jacket, a skull cap tight on his head, pressing his blond curls over his ears. He lifted a to-go cup. “Got you hot chocolate.”