My ears perked up and instead of moving away, I leaned in closer so that my head peeked through the door. “That guy from the skating rink Claire took us to last week?”
Claire and I were the only people in Riley Beach that knew Derek was bisexual, so we were the only ones who got the privilege of playing wing women when we journeyed to the next town over.
Derek looked over my shoulder, just to be sure we had some privacy. “Yeah, it’s kind of a group thing, though. Apparently, he’s in a band.”
“That’s cute.”
Derek made a face, and I frowned.
“Not cute?” I wondered.
“I think he’s just looking for a groupie.”
“You’re making excuses, again,” I warned.
“I’m not-”
“Stop trying to pick apart everything about this guy. Just go and don’t think too hard.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” he joked.
I made a face. “Well, we’re not talking about me so.”
“Really? I know how you feel about Nate’s bestie. What’s the excuse you’re going to give yourself this summer?”
“Excuse me?” The color drained from my face.
Derek chuckled. “You hide it well. Want some advice?”
I considered denying the crush altogether, but it was no use. “Sure.”
“Show him he’s not the only guy on your radar.”
Derek turned on his truck again and whistled to get Nate’s attention. “Let’s get moving! Your sister’s about to give us the long list.”
* * *
Whenever I drove, my family took turns sitting in the backseat. Leo hadn’t ridden shotgun with me at the wheel before, but after only a few blocks, he seemed ready to convert to being a backseat rider too.
“Nice,” he murmured when I halted at a yellow light.
Dad didn’t look up from his phone, knowing better than to comment on the unfixable. Leo would also learn soon enough that I was going to have a comeback for every comment he made.
“They put cameras at these lights now.” I pointed towards the corner of the road. “I’ve got two tickets for ‘running’ a yellow light.”
“You sure running should be in quotations?” Leo teased. “I don’t think we’ve picked up enough speed to be considered crawling.”
I shot him a dark look, and his smile disappeared.
“It was an honest question.” He shrugged.
“Take it from a frequent flyer,” Dad spoke up, with his gaze still trained on his phone. “It’s best to not question Kira’s driving style.”
“Because I’m a safe driver,” I added. “Something most people aren’t used to.”
“I was going to say because it distracts you.”
My smug smile dropped. Dad answered a call before I could jump into debate mode.
