Don’tdoit.
Don’tdoit.
I chanted the words over and over in my head. I looked over at Gwen, who had a smug look of satisfaction on her face. How she could look so happy with herself, I didn’t know. I returned to my internalmantra.
Don’tdoit.
Hedidit.
I gagged at the sight. I couldn’t help it; I was squeamish about those things. Even Julian let out a sound of surprise when Mitch took that final bite. “Disgusting, dude,” He said frombesideme.
“What can I say?” he said triumphantly. “I like to win. Now, what did we say the prize would be?” He asked, while stroking his chin like he actually had toponderit.
“A kiss,” I said from across thetable.
“Oh, crap!” Gwen cried interrupting my sulking. “We don’t have a loser yet.” And she was off to eating her food with a renewedfervor.
I looked at her and back over to Julian who was also eating the food on his plate with a look of determination. Apparently, no one at this table wanted to kiss anyone else. So why did we agree to it again? Peer pressure wasnojoke.
I looked down at my own plate of food and realized no matter how hard I tried, I was going to lose. I might as well enjoy my meal instead. I gingerly lifted my burger and took a bite that was embarrassingly small compared to the destruction going onaroundme.
“What are you doing?” Julian asked, putting his final bite down. He looked at me with a mix confusion and amusement onhisface.
“Well, there’s no way I’m going to win. So I’m choosing to enjoy my meal while I await theinevitable.”
“And that would be?” His eyebrows lifted slightly as heasked.
“I don’t know. I guess it depends on Mitch. But it looks like someone is getting luckytonight.”
“Lucky, Florida?” Mitch chimed in with a snort. “We’re talking a kiss. But because I happen to be a benevolent ruler and can see my subjects are fighters, not lovers, I can settle on anotherprize.”
I couldn’t tell if I was relived or disappointed. “Oh, yeah?” I said, trying to keep my voice sounding bored and not as nerve ridden as Icurrentlyfelt.
“As the self-proclaimed loser, you happen to have something I want. Also, what are we, in middle school? A kiss for eating themostfood?”
“You are the one who suggested it, Mitch,” Gwenadded.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He waved his hands and shook his head simultaneously, as if trying to clear the very air of the idea. “But that was before I got abetteridea.”
“Which is?” I took a breath and held it, waiting for hisanswer.
Mitch looked right at me, waggled his eyebrows and smiled. “I want to drive yournewcar.”
Turnsout losing was the best thing to happen that day. Mitch had pronounced his new spoil as if I was going to be devastated. If only he knew. Or maybe he did. I was still trying to figure the guy out. At times, Mitch was goofy and acted as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Other times, I could swear I saw a calculating gleam in his eyes. Not that it was ever malicious, but it was enough to make you wonder what was beneath thesurface.
Although, when he said he was going to drive my car, I was pretty sure every part of him was in oneaccord.
I had bought it on a whim. It was a nice car, but it wasn’t mybaby.I didn’t see myself obsessing about keeping it pristine. I was sad, I wanted a car, and with the reluctant help of my dad, I had ended up at the dealership in Boise earlier that day. I thought spending a big chunk of money on a fancy carwouldhelp.
Turns out, it didn’t make me happy. It didn’t fill the hole that had formed when my mom died. It made me happy for all of five minutes before I realized it was just another vehicle. Don’t get me wrong, it was anicevehicle. The bells and whistles were more than I had ever had. But it didn’t easetheache.
So when Mitch had leaned across the table looking more mischievous than I’d ever seen him, I wasn’t scared. I was actually glad to let him take it for a spin. In fact, I think watching his eyes light up when he got behind the wheel was more enjoyable than when I signed the papers and madeitmine.
I gave Gwen shotgun and Julian and I climbed in the back, careful to stay as far on our own sides as possible. But even so, I was painfully aware of every move he made. He looked around the back seat, buckled his seatbelt and leaned back with a sigh. Not that I was payingattention.
The dark leather of the seats was soft beneath my fingers as I got adjusted in the backseat. The tinting was so dark the interior of the car was heavily shaded, even in the harsh light of the late afternoon. I felt like a celebrity being transported to an event. Well, until Mitch interrupted mydaydreaming.
“Katie, relax. I promise I’ll be gentle with her.” He rubbed the dash with his hands pettingmycar.
