Trust

“Okay.” With a nod, she began unlocking her own car, parked next to the beast. “See you at work tomorrow.”

“See you.”

“Let’s go to your place,” said Anders to Hang. “Ask your mom if I can stay for dinner. The food at yours is way better than mine.”

“My mom hates you.”

“No she doesn’t,” Anders said, voice incredulous. “She’s just shy.”

Hang laughed, slamming her car door shut.

And then we were alone. Or as alone as you can get in a crowded school parking lot. John climbed in and I did likewise, the air hot and stale. Old cracked leather seating warmed the backs of my legs. In a month or two I’d have to get out my tights for winter. Not that Northern California ever got freezing cold, but dresses alone didn’t do the job all year round.

“He hurt you,” I said.

John revved the engine, setting a hand atop my headrest and turning to check no one was behind us before reversing out. “I know.”

We got into the line of cars pouring from the parking lot and into the street. Smiles and laughter carried through the open windows, everyone in a good mood for Friday afternoon. Almost everyone. Memories of the blood and bruises on John’s face and body that night kind of made me want to puke.

“Be careful,” I said, repeating Erika’s warning.

“I will be.”

Saturday night, I watched transfixed as John rode his skateboard, doing all sorts of cool moves. Bare chested, which upped the heat content tenfold. I held onto his shirt for him, sniffing it maybe once or twice at most. Certainly no more than say half a dozen times because I wasn’t some creepy stalker. Though it should be noted, I wasn’t the only one watching, looking at least half in love with the boy. No, I was just the one with no shame when it came to smelling his clothes.

Oh, well. Honestly, I don’t think I’d really come down since the first time we kissed.

“Hey.” Hang sidled on up to me with a bottle of water in her hands. Despite our drunken antics at her house the night of the bad texting incident, Hang didn’t seem to drink very often. “I think Anders has taken up interpretive dancing.”

“Your boyfriend scares me,” said Carrie, standing on my other side. “I left Sophia to try and keep up with his dancing acrobatics. I’m done.”

Hang laughed. Not correcting her about the boyfriend comment, either. “I have no idea where he gets all of the energy.”

“How’s he doing with your mom?”

She grimaced. “Well, he’s certainly committed. But I don’t see her accepting him anytime soon.”

“Hmm. Your mom is fierce, but my money’s on Anders.”

“Mine too.”

“For certain. The boy doesn’t even know how to give up.” Carrie chuckled. “It’s like the concept doesn’t exist in his world.”

Hang just grinned. It was good to see her so happy.

Around us, the field was slowly filling with people, the area lit courtesy of the headlights of half a dozen trucks and SUVs. I sipped on my beer while Carrie took sips from a flask. It was just half past eight or so. Early for a Saturday night. But my curfew had only been extended to ten thirty, and John and I had plans that required privacy and the comfort of his bed. Oh, and his Uncle Levi was out until late.

That was critical.

Whatever his uncle’s views were on teen sex, the thought of doing anything with someone else in the house was a big no.

John jumped off his board at the top of the half-pipe, landing easy on the flat concrete surface. The boy had to be part acrobat or something. Meanwhile, I could barely touch my toes without falling over. One of the fangirls approached him and he smiled, nodded, and turned away. Then he flipped the board up to his hand with a foot and walked over to us. Another girl stepped up to the edge of the pipe, her board beneath one sneaker. Whoosh, she was off.

Maybe one day I should take up a sport besides shopping. Maybe.

“Hey,” he said, a line of sweat trickling down the side of his face. I passed him the cup of beer and he gulped some. “Thanks.”

“Ever think about going professional with your skateboarding?” I asked, curious.

With a broad smile, he nodded to the girl currently riding. “Watch her.”

“All right.”

We all did, soon understanding why. The woman had mad skills; the jumps and stunts she did were nothing short of amazing.

“Wow!” said Hang.

Mind blown, I could only nod in agreement.

“That’s what pro looks like,” John said. “She’s heading up to Seattle for a big contest next week. Be surprised if she sticks around here much longer.”

“You’re still my hero,” I told him, leaning in for a kiss. Because kissing John topped my list of favorite things to do.

“I’m sweaty,” he said.

“I don’t care.”

Black nearly swallowed the blue of his eyes. “Ready to get out of here?”

I nodded, turning immediately to my friends.

“See you later.” Carrie saluted me with her flask.

“Later,” I said.

“I won’t even ask if you have protection,” joked Hang.

“You’ve seen them, huh?” asked John.

“The small mountain of condoms she’s trying to hide in the back of her car? Yes.”

“It’s not a mountain,” I said, suppressing a smile. “And don’t act like you didn’t take some.”

“You wanted to share. Who was I to say no?”

John just laughed, handing me the last of the beer and dropping his board so he could put his shirt on. I downed it quickly for the extra courage. With my hand in his, he led me around the crowd.

“Johnny!” a voice yelled, a man cutting through group. “Hey.”

Beside me, John swore.

“There you are.” The stranger was tall and thin. His face pale and wasted, despite the pleased smile. “Good to see you.”

“What are you doing here, Dillon?” asked John, tone of voice less than welcoming. Subtly he moved to stand in front of me.

“We’re brothers. Thought it’d be good to catch up.”

“Last time we tried catching up it didn’t end so well.”

Dillon frowned, scratching at the side of his face. “Brothers fight. It’s no big deal.”