“I have my phone and I haven’t gotten a coat yet this year.” She picked up her pace as she hit the threshold. “I’ll take a late bus home.”
Squinting into the headlights of the pickup in the driveway, Gabriella made a note of the license plate. Because that was normal and that was what parents of teens did when their kids left the house? Or because Gabriella had been assaulted herself and hadn’t ever fully recovered?
She didn’t know. Stepping out into the rosy wash of first light, she took deep breaths. Tried to tell herself that Mia was right and she was strong because of what she’d faced. Part of her thought Mia deserved that same chance—to stretch her wings and find her own strength, too. But it was long moments after the truck turned out onto the county road in front of the house before Gabriella pulled the door closed, sagged back against the panel and took a breath. She stared at the bedroom door and debated how to start this day. She hadn’t even given a thought to Pete, and Clay’s father had been in bad shape last night. She should call the hospital and check on him.
On the plus side, she felt slightly encouraged about gettingthrough the trial. First of all, she had the promise of Clayton sitting beside her. And no matter how he felt this morning about the events that had transpired between them last night, she knew without question that he would be there for her in that courtroom. Plus, Gabriella wanted to be home from court as early as possible to be here when Mia returned, and somehow that already helped put Covington a little more firmly in the past. So she’d be leaving the trial early again today. Not only did she want to be here for Mia. She also needed to stop at Last Chance Vintage on the way to ask Erin’s help in choosing a winter coat and a teen-appropriate new backpack.
Gabriella might not have all the answers when it came to dating and boys, but she could make sure Mia Benson was warm enough when she went to school.
“Having second thoughts?”
Mia had to ask Davis the question since he’d parked his truck in the Crestwood High School parking lot and pocketed the key, but made no move to open the door.
The first bell didn’t ring for five more minutes but still…he just sort of stared at the student entrance where kids juggled coffees or foam cups of slushie drinks from the convenience store up the street.
“Hell, no.” He glanced her way. “I am exactly where I wanna be. With you.”
He really was cute with his too-long legs and freckles. One day he’d grow into that body, she’d bet, and be sort of studly with all that tallness. And even now she liked how neat and well-groomed he was with the crew cut and whatever he wore that smelled kinda good. She lived poorenough herself, so she wasn’t attracted to the grunge thing. Her life was kind of grunge except for the nice secondhand things that Erin Finley had traded with her for her work efforts.
Plus, something about how Davis looked this morning made her think he’d made an effort. His shirt was ironed and layered over a T-shirt with the name of a band no one had ever heard of. Duke Ellington? She planned to Google it later.
“Then what gives that we’re just sitting here? You have a math test today or something?” That always slowed her step on the way into school. She was good in math. But it still made her brain hurt.
“Just making sure I’ve got my game face on. I’m going to hear it all day from the guys and I want to make sure I play my part.”
“That’s called having second thoughts.” She couldn’t deny feeling deflated after last night’s texts. She’d thought he would be more into this, but he seemed nervous. And quieter than he had two nights ago on their date. “You don’t have to do this.”
She reached for the door handle but he covered her other hand with his. Gently.
“Mia. Wait.” He slid his hand under hers, letting hers rest on top. “It was my idea. I want to do this. I just don’t want to screw it up. When you came out of your house this morning, I took one look at you and realized it might be a tough sell to make people believe you’re dating me. And only me.”
It took her a minute to process the words for all the good stuff they contained. A compliment to her for sure, which felt nice. But also…something like vulnerability. Which rarely passed from the lips of teens and neverguys, in her experience.
The honesty of it made her brave enough to pony up a confession of her own.
“That’s funny, because I was worried all last night that you were playing me and this was going to be like that movie where the girl from the wrong side of the tracks is tricked into thinking she’s going to be homecoming queen before the kids throw pigs’ blood on her.”
His eyes widened.
“You have a scary imagination, Mia Benson.” His hand, still under hers and kind of cradling it, squeezed lightly. “And I hope I can prove to you that I’m not a bad guy.”
A thrill went through her. There was no other word for the zingy feeling that fluttered around her insides. The number of students streaming toward the school increased as the time for the first bell drew closer. Headlights darted through the truck cab now and again even though the sun had risen a little while ago. The shouts and honks of kids greeting each other was more muted in the morning. The parking lot was far noisier in the afternoons.
And right now it was so nice to think about Davis Reed and whatever was happening between them instead of all the scary crap of the night before. When Pete died, she would lose her safe place to live. Her ability to attend Crestwood.
Damn it. She was not thinking about that right now.
“I have an idea.” She took a deep breath, hoping her suggestion wasn’t crazy. But what did she have to lose after the way the first date went? “Something that might make us feel better about pulling this off.”
She bit her lip. Told herself she could do this and it wasgoing to be fine.
“I’m listening.” He checked his digital watch, the clock face lighting up. “But it’s almost time so we should make it quick.”
“We’ll feel more like we’re dating if we—you know—” She pointed to his mouth and hers. “Kiss.”
Real smooth, Mia,a helpful sarcastic voice in her head trilled.
She should have just kissed him, of course. But she could count on one hand the number of times she’d ever had a nice kiss. Because, duh. There were none. She wasn’t about to share her crappy kissing experiences with him. If he knew how to give nice kisses, she wanted him to take the lead.
