I stay in the hedges another couple minutes in case the cops decide to circle back. This is pathetic. They really have nothing better to do than to chase after skinny-dippers on a Friday night? Considering we're in Oaklawn, that's probably a major offense.
When I finally emerge from the confines of the hedges, my legs and arms are streaked with fine red scratches, and I'm covered in green needles. Pulling the elastic free, I shake out my hair, tiny green slivers raining down. When I secure it back on top of my head, I realize my headband's missing.
"Shit," I grumble.
That's one of the few nice things I own--an heirloom from my mother that my grandmother gave to her. I try to retrace my steps, searching for it, but it's too dark to see anything in the grass. Giving up, I decide to walk back toward the pool, just in case Joey is parked somewhere near the delivery area or comes back there to get me. I'd rather walk back to Sherling than get in the car with him.
"I love you?" I growl, the words inciting a rush of riotous fury. "What the fuck?"
I can't believe he said that. Those words. The worst of all lies.
I clench my fists with my shoes dangling between my fingers. "I love you?!" My stomach rolls and bile rises in the back of my throat.
I can't believe I let him touch me. That I thought for a second that he was actually a decent guy. So stupid!
When I reach the road on the other side of the trees, it's deserted. The street is lined with huge houses with lanterns lit on either side of their doors and at the end of their driveways. The front lawns and hedges are perfectly trimmed, just like the golf course, but no one's on the street. I walk in the direction of the road leading to the main street. The entire time, I'm hexing Joey and every other guy who has ever used those words to seduce or manipulate a girl.
I'm halfway down the road that divides the golf course when headlights flood the dark. I am completely exposed with nowhere to hide. But right now, I don't care if I'm picked up by the police. My feet hurt. I'm cold. And the anger has drained all the life out of me. This night honestly can't get any worse.
The car slows as it nears. It's a gold or tan-colored Land Rover. I keep my head down and continue walking past it when it stops across from me and the driver's window rolls down.
"Lana."
I pause and lift my head.
"Get in."
I stare at Parker for a second before crossing the street toward him, my shoulders slumped in defeat. I open the back door, expecting to find the car full, but it's empty.
"Sit in the front," he instructs.
I close the back door and climb into the passenger seat. "Where is everyone?"
"With Joey. I met him on the side of the road. He said you were still here." Parker comes to a stop at the intersection with the main road and looks at me. "He said it'd be better if I came to get you. The girls were starving, so they went with him. They said to meet them at Stella's."
"If he's going to be there, then just take me home," I tell Parker.
Parker pulls onto the main street, his car still the only one on the road. "What happened?"
I stare at the same encroaching dark forest as before, unable to look at him. "I don't want to talk about it."
"He didn't hurt you, right?" Parker says this like even the idea of it is impossible.
"No," I huff. "He's a liar. Just like everyone else."
Parker doesn't respond. Neither of us speaks as he drives through Oaklawn, eventually crossing into Sherling.
"You don't lie."
I turn my head, his words cutting through the prolonged silence. "How do you know?"
"I remember you telling me once that you don't lie--ever. And ... I believe you. You've never lied to me, even when I wished you had." He releases a low chuckle. "You really don't, do you?"
"No, I don't," I reply simply.
"Then can I ask you one question that you promise to answer?"
I shift in my seat so I'm angled toward him, intrigued by the request. This could be dangerous. But Parker doesn't exactly seem like the kind of guy who wants to explore the depths of my soul. If Joey had asked this, my answer would have been an automatic no. I narrow my eyes, considering Parker's motive.