I chuckle. “The food trucks areright there.”
She sighs, and I know her laziness is winning out over her need to snack. Though I’m sure Tyler would bring her food if she asked. Even if he did ditch us to hang out with the baseball team five minutes ago.
The sound of a motorcycle pulls our attention toward the parking lot. The bike pulls in slowly and parks in what I’m sure isn’t really a spot. The rider revs a few more times, clearly attention seeking. I arch a brow, wondering who in our class has a motorcycle.
“Oh my God. Is that Alex Pestano?” someone asks from my left.
Alex places her helmet on the seat, and when our eyes meet, she smiles so large, it makes my stomach flip. Even with her wild hair and braces and gangly limbs, I’ve always found Alex to be pretty. Her eyes have always held so much emotion, and her smile has always been my safe space. I’ve loved her like a sister for so long that she could never be anything less than perfect. ButthisAlex? This Alex is something else.ThisAlex is stunning.
“Holy shit,” Chloe mumbles.
“When did she get hot?” I hear someone else ask behind me.
When indeed?
Alex slips off her jacket, and my gaze trails down her bare arms; over her tight, high neck racerback tank top; and even tighter pants. It hits me that she’s changed so much over this past year. Grown up. Her hips are a little wider and her chest a little fuller, and despite seeing her often through a screen, she looks the same yet completely different.
I can’t take my eyes off her as she slowly weaves closer. Her wild hair has been tamed into large, soft curls, and her smile seems brighter and skin a little darker, like she spent the past year lying on the beaches of France instead of studying. She’s thin but no longer in a scrawny kind of way. Instead, she’s toned, and I watch her biceps flex as she grips her jacket.
She makes her way through the crowd, pausing briefly here and there to say hello to our classmates, offering fist bumps and sideways hugs. It seems as though everyone is happy she’s home. Her laugh rings out, floating through the noise and hits me square in the chest. It’s a sound I’ve so desperately missed.
“You’re late,” I tell her when she reaches us.
Her grin shifts to something a little more apologetic. “I had togas up.” She pulls me in for a hug and drops a kiss against my temple. “Like my surprise?”
I stare at the motorcycle, wondering when the hell she managed to buy herself a bike and where she found the money. “How pissed was your mom?”
“Pretty pissed,” Alex says, her eyes sparkling as if she still doesn’t mind a bit of discipline. Some things never change, I guess.
I eye the sleek-looking motorcycle again. A small group of classmates circle it, clearly just as curious. “Are you legally allowed to be driving it?”
“Technically…no. At least, not yet.”
I can’t help but notice how happy she looks. I wonder if it has to do with her new worldly experience or because she’s finally home.
“I learned how to ride in France and was hooked. Mason helped me get her.”
Of course her brother would be in on it. The two of them have always been trouble. “Why does that not surprise me?”
Chloe makes a circle in front of Alex with her hand and slowly checks her out. “You know this whole look is super gay, right?”
Alex shrugs. “If the boot fits.” She pulls Chloe in for a proper hug, both of them grinning.
“Your French get any better?” Chloe asks when she pulls away. Alex leans in and whispers something in her ear. Chloe’s jaw drops. “I don’t know what you just said, but it was sexy as hell.”
A group walks past to go inside, and someone calls out. “Hey, Alex, welcome back.”
She waves and turns back to us.
“Should we grab something to eat, then check out what’s inside?” Chloe asks, already making her way to the line of food trucks.
I jut my chin in Chloe’s direction. “What did you say to her just now?”
“I told her she was wearing too much perfume, and her eyeliner was a bit smudged,” Alex says through a smile.
It makes me laugh. We slowly head to the food trucks, and I bump my shoulder into hers. “So when are you going to take me for a ride?”
She smirks, and even in the low lighting, I can’t help but stare at her dimples. “Whenever you want.”
