“I’m not the last,” he says, swinging his backpack over his shoulder.
“Look around. Everyone’s gone.”
He gets his phone out, ignoring me as we walk to the car.
“What happened to Braden?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“Your dad’s lawyer showed up at lunch and took him away.”
Trystan shrugs. “They must not have talked long. I saw him after lunch.”
“He didn’t say anything?”
“No.” He smiles at me as he opens his door. “Did you guys go make out in the cleaning closet?”
“You’re disgusting,” I say, getting in the car.
“Under the bleachers?” he asks as we’re driving off.
“We didn’t make out. And stop talking about it. I’m gonna throw up.”
He laughs. “I think it’s cute the way you pretend you don’t like him.”
“Yeah, you’re hilarious. Oh, on Wednesday, I have to see the stupid counselor after school, so I need you to wait to take me home.”
“Fuck that. You’ll need to find someone else.”
“What if you went home and came back? I’ll give you gas money.”
“I don’t need fucking gas money. Dad pays for that.”
“Then what’s the big deal? Just come back and pick me up.”
“Ask someone else to do it. Like Peyton. She seems to be your new best friend. I saw her following you around all day.”
“She’s not my friend. She lies. And dates old guys her dad works with.”
“She’s the one who needs counseling.”
“I know, right? Trystan, c’mon, will you just pick me up? It’s not that far.”
“Can’t do it. I have a date on Wednesday.”
“A date? With who?”
“None of your damn business.”
“Is it someone at school?”
“I’ll repeat — none of your damn business. Just get your damn driver’s license and this wouldn’t be a problem.”
“To get a license I have to get a permit and then wait an entire year before I can get an actual license where I can drive without having someone with me in the car.”
“Yeah, that sucks. My dad used to pay a guy to ride with me since he wasn’t here.”
“Like a stranger?”
