“But—”
“If I’ve learned anything from my parents, it’s that honesty is the most important thing. So let me own my mistake, okay?”
“Okay.” I swallow.
Honesty is the most important thing.
He still doesn’t know about that list.
He thinks I’m honest.
“You sure it wouldn’t help if I talked to her?” he asks. “Apologized to her face?”
“Definitely not.” At least not without the fire marshal present.
“If you say so.” He leans across the PRNDL to kiss me gently. “Thanks.”
He backs out, his arm slung over my seat as he looks out the rear windshield, but as he puts the car back in drive it gives a sharp lurch and stalls, the engine’s hum stilling beneath my seat.
Liam frowns. Turns the key to try and start it again, but nothing happens. And then the lights on his dashboard go out, and the wipers stop their rhythmic dance.
“Did it die?” I ask.
“No idea.” He sighs. “I hate this car.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I crack my door open and look around, but we’re the last ones out. The parking lot is deserted, and the rain’s coming down harder, pelting my face with cold droplets. I slam the door shut again, trapping what heat there is inside with us. “What do we do?”
“Want to try your parents?”
“Dad’s on call today, but lemme see about Amy...”
I text her, but she’s in Overland Park. Worse, she’s with Jasmine.
Liam pulls out his own phone. After a moment he says, “My dad can come get us.” He bites his lip, brow furrowed. I lose his face as his screen goes dark.
“Oh. Okay.” Except Liam doesn’t look okay. “You sure?”
I can’t hear his answer, though, between the dark and the rain hammering the roof.
“What?”
He opens up his Notes app.
I'm sure this is his old car anyway
“Ah.”
Liam yanks the key out of the ignition, balls it in his fist. His screen goes dark again.
I reach for the hand clenched around his key; after a moment, he relaxes and lets me take it. I trace the tendons on the back of his hand with my thumb.
Eventually, Liam opens his hand up, flips it over so our fingers intertwine. Squeezes me gently, even though the car key is sandwiched between our palms. With his other hand, he types on his phone again.
It’ll be a while before he gets here
At least half an hour
Maybe more with rain
