The Way to Game the Walk of Shame (9 page)

I was starting to like the way she switched personalities so quickly. Hell, maybe I really
was
going crazy. “Why?”

“It’s all here in the fine print.” She waved the paper in front of my face before sticking it in her back pocket. “You should have read it before signing. Didn’t anyone tell you that? Let this be a lesson for you in the future.”

My eyes narrowed, but her face remained calm. A bit brighter from her gloating. “You’re bluffing.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Hmm. If we were going to do this, she’d have to understand who was in charge around here.

I leaned toward her. My left hand brushed the remaining crumbs off her soft lips before resting on the cool wallpaper on the other side of her waist so she’d be trapped in my arms. A flicker of panic crossed her face, but Taylor continued to stare up at me, not flinching or moving away. Not even when I bent down so my mouth would be right beside her ear. I let her take a deep breath before I whispered, “Then I’m going to need a copy of that contract.”

Taylor let out another rattling breath and turned her head to face me. Her eyes were downward, so all I could see were her lashes. As though pulled together by some type of invisible force, our bodies angled even closer until her lips were barely an inch from mine. She touched my chest, and I could feel her hot hand through my T-shirt, making my body tense up. My gaze flickered down to her mouth for a split second before looking up again.

Right before I was about to dip my head to kiss her, Taylor smiled up at me. A triumphant smile. “I’ll have a copy for you this weekend when you meet me for our study date.” Before I could say or do anything, she laid her other hand on my chest and pushed me away.

Even though I was still hot and bothered by her teasing, I couldn’t help chuckling as I walked to the door. “You know this will probably backfire on you.”

“How?”

“You might fall in love with me and won’t want to let go in the end.”

Taylor snorted. “Yeah, let me know when you’re done dreaming.”

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I’m just warning you. It
could
happen.” I winked at her. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then, sweetheart.”

7

{Taylor}

Even though the meteorologist said it was going to be a crisp sixty degrees this morning, I still layered up in boots, an overcoat, and a scarf. I’d been played by the weatherman too many times to take the chance.

Sure enough, halfway to the bus stop I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore. Sixty degrees, my butt. It had to be at most high thirties if you factored in the wind. If this crazy weather wasn’t a sign of global warming, I didn’t know what was.

A loud yawn escaped my mouth, piercing through the quiet morning air. I’d barely gotten any sleep, since Carly had kept me on the phone practically all night. After Evan left, I’d been in stunned disbelief for so long that I didn’t call Carly to tell her about my new
relationship
until after dinner. My ears were still kind of ringing from her squeals and cheers. I swear, I hadn’t seen her this excited since we sneaked backstage after the
Wicked
musical last year.

I was still pacing around the bench and securing my red scarf more firmly around my neck when a loud engine roared from down the street. It sounded like a large truck, but it turned out to be a slightly small, grayish-green clunker that pulled up beside me. There was a loud, clinking pop, and the engine died. The driver’s-side window rolled down, and a tousled blond head popped out. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride to school.”

Evan.

I knew he was talking to me and not the two old ladies behind us, but I still had to look over my shoulder to make sure. Talking to him felt weird. Was weird. Like this wasn’t real. “That’s okay.” I tucked my hands in my pockets and resumed my pacing. “I like the bus.”

When it became apparent that I wasn’t going to change my mind and jump in, Evan let out a sigh, rolled up his window, and climbed out of the car. Despite the cold, he just wore a plain blue T-shirt, jeans, and a dark gray and white hoodie.

Within seconds, he was in step with me, hands shoved in both pockets. Up and down the sidewalk we marched. No matter how slowly or quickly I walked, he would just adjust his pace. “Are we going to just pretend we don’t know each other?”

I gave him a sideways glance. “Of course not. We
do
know each other.”

“Yeah. Kind of a shame we don’t remember exactly how much.” My cheeks flushed hotly. To make matters worse, the wind carried his voice, and I swear, everyone at the bus stop grew quiet. Evan continued as though he didn’t notice the two nosy old ladies obviously eavesdropping on us. “So are we only supposed to be
friendly
when we have an audience, or can we at least be friends? Real friends?”

“We are friends.” The word sounded foreign on my tongue. Like
jabberwocky
. Or
hornswoggle
. I shook my head and tried again, stressing each syllable. “Seriously, friends.”

“Okay, then as
friends,
we should go to school together.” Evan touched my wrist to make me stop. “Come on, I said I’d take you.”

Despite all the layers I was wearing, he managed to find the tiny slit of skin exposed between my mittens and coat. I don’t know if this was an honest mistake or just a talent of his, but I could feel the heat radiating from his fingertips. How the heck did he manage to stay so warm in so few layers?

“And
I
said no thanks.” The two old busybodies were blatantly staring now. I resisted the urge to shoo them away and softened my voice. “Like I said, I like the bus. It gives me time to … think.”

To my surprise, Evan laughed like I had told him the funniest joke and pulled me in for a tight, one-armed hug. “God, you’re stubborn,” he muttered through beaming, clenched teeth. Shocked by his closeness, I blinked and stayed still as his breath tickled my ear. “Did you forget we’re supposed to be dating now? How would it look if I let my
girlfriend
ride the bus when I have a perfectly good and comfortable car right here?”

Oh, right. Duh. I glanced over his shoulder and grimaced at the rust stains up and down the passenger door. “Are you sure you know the definition of
comfortable
?”

He let go of me, but not before he rapped his hand against the back of my head. “Come on, you can think in my car. Can’t let you be late for class, now.”

Ouch!
I glowered at his back and rubbed my head as he walked away. It didn’t hurt that much because my knitted hat cushioned the blow, but it
could
have. I crossed my arms and stayed right where I was.

Evan didn’t get in the car. Instead, he jumped up and down and rubbed his hands together, blowing on them to keep warm as he waited. My annoyance with his arrogance slowly faded. He
was
making an effort. And it was sweet of him to even think about driving me to school. Especially when he really didn’t have to. We could have started our charade when we arrived at school.

Despite the shabby exterior, the car’s interior was pretty comfortable. And clean, too. I had to give him that. The gray seats enveloped me into the cushions. It reminded me of Dad’s sofa in the study. A little lumpy, like it was homemade. It wasn’t pretty to look at, but it was soft to the touch. At least to my touch.

And warm. Like I was sliding into a fire when I got in the car. My entire body tingled from the abrupt temperature change, but I didn’t mind. I tucked my bag beneath the seat so only the top and the straps were poking out. Then I peeled off each layer of clothing, sighing with contentment.

For such a small car, the seats were abnormally wide. My legs stuck out awkwardly, like a kid with knobby knees who couldn’t quite reach the floor. One glance at the rearview mirror and I grimaced. My baby hair beneath my hat stuck out of my braid. I tried to smooth them down for a few seconds before giving up. They just sprang back up again like prickly thorns. At least I didn’t have to worry about Evan trying to seduce me. Hand me a lollipop, and I looked like I was in elementary school again.

Oh well. I tucked one leg beneath me and propped the other on top of my bag. “I guess we could use this time to get to know each other.”

“Sounds like a blast.”

Gotta love the sarcasm.
I tapped my fingers against my thigh. “It would be pretty hard to convince people that we’re dating when we barely know anything about each other.”

The right side of his mouth quirked upward. “That’s how most of my relationships are, but of course you’d want to be different. So what do you want to know?”

I never knew if he was giving me a compliment or an insult. “Do you have any brothers or sisters? What do your parents do for a living?”

“I’m an only child. And my mom’s a nurse.”

“And your dad?”

His smile slowly faded. “My—my mom’s married to a doctor. An anesthesiologist.”

“Your dad’s an anesthesiologist, and you drive this old clunker?”

His jaw clenched, and his fingers tapped the horn at the center of the steering wheel, but not hard enough to actually make it honk. “First off, for your information, this isn’t an old clunker.
This
is a 1989 BMW 325i.”

I nibbled on my thumbnail, confused by the sudden rush of tension in the car. “Er, that literally means nothing to me.”

“Secondly,” Evan continued as though I hadn’t responded. He flicked the left signal and moved around the silver car in front of us. “He isn’t
my
dad. He’s my stepdad. Major difference. And third, this classic car used to belong to my real dad, so no trashing it. I wouldn’t trade Rudy for the world.”

Oh.
“Rudy?” I asked stupidly.

“Yes, Rudy.” No explanations added. I could have sworn that he flushed before turning his head away. Subject closed.

“So your parents are divorced?” Why couldn’t I stop asking the stupidest questions?

“Yeah, and my mom married a jackass.”

I waited for him to continue, but that was it. No more talking. Apparently, my question had killed the conversation better than a nuclear bomb.
Boom!

The layer of tension in the air grew until I actually felt suffocated. Evan didn’t seem to notice, though. He just stared straight ahead and continued driving. His right hand gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. My curiosity made me want to ask more, but my nerves wouldn’t let me.

Why didn’t I just get on the bus?

He sped up, weaving around the cars instead of slowing down as we approached the Highway 8 Bridge. I nervously fingered the seat belt buckle to make sure it was secure. I had major acrophobia. Even a slight bridge incline was enough to make my stomach tighten in fear. Especially when combined with being in a speeding chunk of metal. “My parents are divorced, too,” I blurted out to distract us both.

It worked. There was a slight squeaking noise as he released the gas pedal a bit. I could feel his gaze on me, but I didn’t look up. I just concentrated on slowing my heartbeat. “Is your stepdad a jackass, too?”

My index finger tapped against the peeling plastic tint on the glass, and I stared at the small dog park across the street. Dogs playing tag and rolling green mounds dotted with yellow flowers flew by. “No, he’s great. The title of jackass would belong to my real dad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

We fell silent again. With nothing else to do, I started to arrange the CD cases stacked in the compartment on the side of the door. Rotating and stacking them neatly so all the names were facing the same direction. Finally, I looked up, and there was a confused frown on Evan’s handsome face. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he figured out a subtle way to ask about my dad without seeming too nosy.

“What’s wrong with your real dad?”

Forget being subtle. “It’s complicated.” I leaned forward and ran my finger along the dashboard, wiping at the thin layer of dust that clung to the plastic. Why couldn’t I have brought up something else to talk about? School, books, even the dirty magazines in his room would have been better. I hated talking about Dad. Or even thinking about him. And that other woman.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

The fact that he was giving me a
choice
made me want to tell him. At least the short version. That and the fact that he had slowed down enough that I was no longer worried we’d die in a car crash. “Besides cheating on my mom every other month and forgetting he even had two daughters, he was perfect. A real smooth talker who always got his way.” I let out a short laugh. “Then again, he wasn’t a university English professor for nothing.”

Evan let out a low whistle. “Yeah, he sounds like he’d win the Best Dad of the Year trophy. So where is he now?”

“I don’t know, and to be honest, I don’t care.” My lower lip was starting to get sore from my chewing on it. I forced myself to stop. “The best day of our lives was when he finally did us a favor and walked out. Well, second best. The best day was when Mom married my stepdad.”

“The hotshot lawyer?” Evan smiled at my surprised expression. “You mentioned him and your aspirations the morning we—well, you know.”

“Right.” I let out a deep breath and folded my arms together. “Any more questions?”

“Yeah, just one.” He gave me a sideways glance and wrinkled his nose. “Why are you still taking the bus when you’re seventeen? Can’t you drive?”

I leaned back against the cushion, grateful that the interrogation about my dad was over. Just the mention of him brought back memories of my parents fighting every single night. And Mom’s tears. “Technically, that’s two questions, but I’ll answer them both. Yes, I can drive, but I take the bus because I don’t have a car. And I don’t have a car because I decided to take the money my parents were going to spend on one and put it in my savings instead. To help with my living expenses when I go to Columbia.”