“Come on, Little Reckoning. I know you like to live on the wild side.”
I bite my lips at that, feeling goosebumps erupt all over my skin. He’s right about that. I don’t mind a taste of danger, but I’m also afraid of getting caught.
“We’ll go to my car,” he offers. “No one will snitch. It’s Oakson Lake.”
“You’re right,” I say, crossing my arms. “Don’t blame me for being skeptical. The place we grew up in is the complete opposite of this.”
“I know.” He laughs and then takes my hand. His fingers are huge in mine, and my mind flashes back to last night, how they felt inside me. His scent flutters toward me, strong, and I suddenly hope he can’t sense the direction my thoughts have gone. “Come on.”
The inside of his car is comfy, and the dark exterior makes it feel private despite the overhead light he uses to finish rolling the blunt. I stay quiet, telling myself it’s to help him concentrate on his task, but the truth is I’m trying my best not to spill my scent into his seats. The electricity in the air is mouthwatering, and I have to hold my breath periodically to keep myself from inhaling as much of it as I want.
He finishes the blunt and lights it, puffing it once before handing it to me. I inhale and a cough escapes me.
“Easy there,” Axl says, but there’s no malice in it. If anything, he’s looking at me with soft eyes, watching over me.
I inhale once more before handing the blunt back. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I’ve ever gotten high?”
His lips flatten for a second as he taps the blunt in the ashtray between us, then the side curls up.
“I don’t need to,” he answers.
“Oh?”
“You don’t remember that day, do you?” he asks. “The day you first got high.”
Flames flash behind my eyelids. I never actually saw the fire, but they haunt me sometimes still. I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He chuckles. “Yes, you do. But I don’t think you remember me being there.”
“Tell me,” I say automatically, needing the blank spots of my memory filled in. I can’t believe it. I had no idea Axl was present, that he witnessed whatever happened.
“It’s a short story, to be honest. You asked to borrow a cigarette, I gave it to you, and you threw it to the side after the first hit because you started coughing.”
My brows scrunch. “Huh. That’s kind of anticlimactic.”
“Well, there was some kind of mystery liquid on the floor. When you threw the cigarette, it inferno’d the whole place. I don’t know if it was gasoline or some other weird cleaning product, but we’re really lucky we got out of there.”
“How did we get out of there?”
“I had to throw you over my shoulder.”
A laugh escapes me. “What? I have no recollection of that at all.” I bite my lip. “Thank you… for helping me that day.”
“I didn’t want anything messing with your perfect school record,” he teases, but a tiny part of me thinks his taunt holds some truth. He licks his lips, handing me the blunt again.
Gosh, I don’t even want to think about it. “Still. If anyone saw you there, things could have been bad. Everyone blamedyou, and they didn’t even have proof.” I swallow roughly. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t even know you were there. I thought I had done something horrible, and I wanted to forget about it.”
“I probably should have told you sooner,” he responds. He reaches over and turns on the radio, flipping through the stations. When we get to Avril Lavigne’s newest hit, he stops, letting it play.
My entire body fizzles with glee.
“What are you studying at Greenwood?” I ask, changing the subject. “I just realized that I’ve never asked you that.”
He giggles, a sound that I’d like to bottle up for my worst days. “You don’t even want to guess?”
“Well, I’d say music or musical engineering, but Greenwood is limited with its options. There aren’t a lot of creative courses.”
“I would love to take more music classes, but you’re right. Although they don’t lack in the sports department.”
