“You sit shotgun,” I pleaded with Gina when we reached the lobby.
“Why?”
“Because I have to sit by him in English, so my Troy quota is full.”
She laughed and shook her head. “You know him better. You sit by him.”
“He smells good,” I told her. “He doesn’t have much of a personal bubble, but he smells good.”
“Let’s just both sit in the back,” she suggested. “He can be our taxi driver.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Good idea.”
Only when we got to the orange monstrosity, the passenger door swung open and a massive human jumped out. Gina and I both gasped and took a step back.
Troy was now sitting on the ledge of his window, peering over the top of the car with that cocky grin on his face. “Ladies, this is Mikey. Mikey, this is Cass and…?”
“Gina,” she announced with a curtsy.
Both guys smiled, but the new one jerked his chin and said, “Sup, Gina?”
She didn’t say anything. I had been expecting smart assey and sarcastic, but she just smiled at him and waved.
He was definitely another jock. From his tall build and muscled arms, I could tell he was one of Troy’s tribe.
Great, two football meatheads to keep us company. This night just kept getting better and better.
“You a big Fresh Suicide fan, Mikey?” I didn’t want to like this guy, but he definitely had more points with me than Troy—just because he wasn’t Troy.
“They’re so sick,” he agreed. “I catch all their shows when I’m here.”
My icy heart melted a little. I couldn’t hate someone that loved Fresh Suicide as much as I did. “Did you see them the last time they played Graffiti’s? It was nuts.”
He sounded genuinely disappointed when he explained, “We had a game out of town. But I heard it was insane.”
“Cass knows Jake Turner,” Gina added, a smug smile lighting up her face. “They’re like actually friends.”
Mikey’s eyes got big and he exclaimed, “Nu-uh!” but I didn’t miss Troy’s grunt of disapproval. Apparently Troy was not a Fresh Suicide fan. “Are you for real?”
“It’s legit,” I told Mikey, choosing to ignore Troy completely. “We were neighbors growing up. He said he’d get us backstage after his set.”
“Dude!” Mikey laughed. “You were right, Cameron. This girl is radical!”
I glanced at Troy, who looked super uncomfortable. Had he really called me radical? Something smooth and warm burned through me. I tried to ignore the sudden jolt of nerves through my system, but it was impossible. Even if I couldn’t stand Troy, it was still nice to be complimented.
I wasn’t completely emotionless.
“Let’s go,” Troy called out, banging the top of his rusted ride.
Mikey stepped back and held the passenger door wide for me. “After you, Cass. The cool kids get to sit up front.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m—”
Mikey had already moved on, forgetting about me entirely. “Let me get that for you,” he told Gina, swooping in to open the back door.
His eyes stayed on her the entire time she crawled into the backseat. First on her face, then on her ass as she tried to keep her skirt down and not flash anyone.
“What’s the hold up, Carmichael?”
