“Yeah. Yes.” David nodded. His arm was still around my waist, pinning me to his side in a protective stance. “Thank you, sir.”
“Make sure you keep your head in the game.” Lukas gave me another glance. “You’re this close to the finish line.”
“Right, thanks.” David’s voice was a little harder, jaw tight as Lukas gave him a small smile and opened his car door.
“Night, kids,” he said. “Don’t stay out too late.”
Once the car sped off and the heavy cloud Lukas had carried dispersed, I turned to David.
“What was that about?”
David watched as the car disappeared down the street. “He’s just an asshole.”
“No, I know assholes,” I reminded him. “That was something else.”
He let out a heavy breath. “Yara, let’s not?—”
“Let’s get something straight.”
“Didn’t think either of us was capable of that,” he joked. When I didn’t smile, he sighed.
“I don’t want to be the woman you come to just for some physical exchange.”
“Physical exchange?” He chuckled. “You mean sex? How old are you?”
“Old enough to know when a guy’s emotionally stunted,” I said.
He blinked, all humor washed away.
“If you want this to work, I want to know you. Need to.”
“Alright,” he said simply.
“Alright?” I squeaked, surprised at how simple he’d made it.
“Only if the same applies to you,” he said. “I want to know you. Not the version you’ve kept on display. The Yara who sketches in secret books and hides them in dark corners.”
There’s no taking it back now. “Fair is fair.”
25
“Yara,what did I say?Alwayscheck your mirrors.” David sat in the passenger seat of his car, one hand tightened around the grab handle. The other hand white-knuckle gripped the console.
“I did.” My trembling hand readjusted the rearview mirror for the third time since I had backed up onto a curb.
The litter-infested parking lot of a long-abandoned Martie Mart was the perfect place for a twenty-something, non-learner’s permit-having, anxiety-prone woman to learn the driving basics.
I hadn’t thought I’d get behind the wheel during my first lesson. But David insisted one learned better by doing. I’d warned him of the potential pitfalls, and now, he pressed his lips together, regretful of writing me off.
“Can you see out of them?” he asked.
I scoffed. “Of course, I can see out of them. I’m not that… inept.”
The side mirror on the right remained slightly turned in, dripping in morning dew. I chewed on my bottom lip and moved the tiny knob David had shown me before I got intothe car, adjusting it so I could see the tree's reflection on the curb. If I had seen that before, his poor tires wouldn’t have been at risk.
David blew out a breath, but when I stole a quick look at him, it wasn’t anger that shadowed across his face. He brushed the back of his hand across his lips and turned his gaze outside. From the haggard way he took in air, I’d bet he was holding in a laugh.
He’d given me a complete walkthrough of everything from the tire tread to popping the hood and pointing out oil and coolant. I spaced out when he went into great detail about motors and the sounds that I should understand. So, once we got to mirrors, I’d mentally moved on to organizing the masquerade decor supplies in the living room. Haven would not be pleased with the incessant amount of clutter we’d have to live with for the rest of the semester.
