Chapter 14

Ipanicked as soon as I reached my bedroom, but it was juvenile and thrilling instead of suffocating. Every article of clothing I owned contained a major flaw I'd never noticed before. Each top was drabber than the last, and each pair of pants was more humiliating. I thought I was looking for a nice sweater or a flattering pair of jeans, but deep down, I knew I'd only be satisfied if I found brand-new skin to step into.

Chris was sitting on the couch when I wandered downstairs. The TV screen lit the dark room with blinking blues and whites. My mom was in the kitchen rinsing dishes, her favorite apple-cinnamon candle burning low beside the sink.

I leaned against the kitchen table as I watched her, trying to figure out how to formulate the question. "Hey, Mom, can I borrow the car tonight?" I tried to sound normal, but my voice had the same high-pitched tightness it did when I had to stand at the front of a class and give a presentation.

She switched between the kitchen and the pantry. "I have to run over to the assisted living to help Grandma with her TV. She's still having trouble with that new remote, but Chris can drive you."

"Negative!" he shouted back, but my mom ignored him.

"Are you doing something with Margo and Casey?" She bustled over to the laundry machine, and I trailed behind her. I watched as she shifted handfuls of clothes from the washer to the dryer.

"Um." My face grew hot, and I picked at my fingernails as a distraction.

She had been shoveling a new round of clothes from the dirty hamper to the washer, but she straightened up. "Alice Marie! Are you hanging out with a boy?"

"Christ."

She clapped both hands together and left the rest of the clothes abandoned in the hamper as Chris meandered into the kitchen. He carried an empty glass, pretending it was a coincidence he was out of water. He placed it on the counter, then retrieved the pitcher from the fridge. He didn't bother to hide his wide grin.

"What's his name?" she asked. Her eyes shone with excitement. I hadn't mentioned a boy's name in two years, and though it wasn't a conversation I wanted to have, I couldn't quite bring myself to squash her elation.

"It's not a big deal, Mom. We're just friends."

She put both hands on her hips. "That's nice. So does that mean he doesn't have a name?"

Seeing no possible way out, I let out a dramatic sigh. "It's Hunter."

"He sounds handsome." She winked, and though I tried, I couldn't help my smile. She sat at the kitchen table, then gestured at the seat across from her. "Tell me about him."

Instead of moving, I stared at her. I did think about it for a moment, but I wasn't sure what I'd even begin to say. I was still working out the thoughts in my own head, and trying to describe Hunter was like trying to describe a color. I knew what it looked like, but putting it into words made my brain hurt. "I'd really rather not."

Chris shifted from beside the fridge, smirking. "Smokes cigarettes, looks like he got in a fight, wears all black. You know the type."

I scowled at him. "Can you mind your own business?"

His smile was blinding. "I quite literally cannot."

Mom's smile faltered as she folded her arms. "Cigarettes are extremely addictive."

"Are they really? Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?"

Chris leaned one shoulder against the fridge. "Secondhand smoke is a real thing."

I squinted at him. "Secondhand what now?"

My mom rolled her eyes. "Does he find your sarcasm as charming as we do?"

I slouched into the seat across from her. I didn't want to consider what Hunter found charming, because if I did, I was afraid I'd be left wondering why he wanted to hang out with me in the first place. "I don't know. We don't talk all that much. He just chain-smokes, and I sit there trying to inhale it all."

My mom studied me. Her lips twitched and her eyes were soft, but it was a while before she said anything. "You're lucky I love you."

"Why's that?" I grumbled, but it was Chris who answered.

"Because you'd be intolerable otherwise."

My mouth dropped open in mock offense as I waited for my mom to scold him, but she grinned. "That's exactly why."

And all my outrage was drowned out by Chris's laughter.

* * *

There wasa new-text indication flashing on my phone when I returned to my room, and I dived across my bed as if it might disappear at any second.

H: Hey. Want to come over around 8? My beloved stepbrother should be gone by then

A: Hey, so I actually don't have a ride.

H: That's fine. I'll send my town car to pick you up

A: Seriously?

H: Shit did I say town car? I meant bike… I'll be on my bike

A: Lol you are one damaged rich kid.

H: Wait until you see my bike

A: This should be interesting lol. I've never rode on pegs before.

H: Oh jesus. Wear a coat

A: Lol okay.

H: You don't lol this much in person… I'm beginning to get suspicious

A: LOL! I'm dying over here!!!! Can't stop laughing!!!!!

H: Haha what's your address you maniac

A: 46 Maple Ave

H: Cool. See you in a bit

My fingers itched to say more in return to drag the conversation forward, but I tossed my phone on my bed so I wouldn't be too tempted. Besides, what would I possibly say? Cool? Can't wait? Contrary to how I've acted, I've been looking forward to this since the first time I watched you contemplate murder in gym class?I settled on silence and glancing at myself in the mirror.

Chris was sitting in the living room watching TV when I raced downstairs. Hunter was twenty minutes late, and I had spent those twenty minutes with my face pressed against my window as though his arrival was dependent on my level of desperation.

Chris turned off the TV. "Are you ready?"

I grimaced. Not in apology but because I'd forgotten to mention it. "I actually don't need a ride."

"What? Why not?" He stood to peer between the curtains.

"I didn't feel like getting tormented all the way there and all the way back," I said, shooting him a fake smile.

"You are so dramatic. Do you know that?"

I stuck my tongue out at him before grabbing my coat from the front closet. I gathered the courage to open the front door as my phone vibrated once in my pocket. When I looked back at Chris, he was watching me.

He gave me an encouraging smile. "You look nice."

I tried to nod, but I was suddenly so nervous I thought I might vomit.

"Just be yourself," he said when I didn't answer.

I twisted around. "Be myself?That's terrible advice."

Chris let out a gust of laughter. "Call me if you need a ride home. Can you at least manage that?"

"I think so," I breathed, opening the front door.

Hunter stood at the end of my driveway next to the crummiest bike I'd ever seen. "Your face is suspiciously straight, Alice Matthews," he called.

I grinned back as I walked toward him, pulling on my hat and mittens. "I'm all laughed out."

"Well now, that is a serious bummer."

"Wait a second, is this bike for real?" It looked as though Hunter had taken multiple different bike parts, all various colors, and superglued them together. I was shocked it was standing upright. He burst into laughter at my horrified expression.

"First of all, please don't be rude. Second of all, I have been riding this thing for years, and it hasn't failed me yet. I garbage picked all the parts." He took a step back so I could get a better look at it.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

He laughed, considering me. "I guess not."

"Okay, so how do we do this?" I asked, glancing between him and the bike.

"You're going to stand on these pegs, here, and hold on to my shoulders as I pedal."

"All right," I said, inspecting the pegs. "Should I get on?"

"Yeah, you can get on."

"Oh god, I'm scared. Should I be wearing a helmet?"

"I won't crash, I promise."

"What if we get hit by a car?"

"We won't, just get on."

"Do you have reflectors?"

"Yes, I have reflectors."

"Okay, I'm going to get on now."

"Please do."

"These pegs, right?"

"The very ones."

As soon as I grabbed hold of his shoulders, Hunter pushed off with one foot, and we lurched forward, the cool air whipping my face. We picked up momentum as we rolled down the hill at the end of my street, and I gripped his shoulders even tighter. I begged him to slow down, shrieking as my face grew numb, but he only laughed and doubled our speed.