Miss Me Not

"No," I answered shortly, looking at his hand that still held me in place.

"Are you pregnant?"

"Pregnant? God no, that would require touching," I said pointedly, jerking my arm from his grasp. "I don't do touching," I said, turning away from him. My sudden movement made my already foggy head start spinning. I took a staggering step forward, trying to keep my balance.

Dean reached out and grasped my elbow to steady me.

"What part of 'I don't do touching' do you not understand?" I asked sarcastically, trying to regain a shred of my dignity.

He dropped his hand like it had been burned. "Sorry," he said, cramming the offender into his pocket. "Let me drive you home," he added.

"Don't worry about me, I'm good. I don't need you."

"Madison, please. I promise I won't touch you again. It's my fault you're not feeling good. It's the least I can do."

"It was bound to happen. You're off the hook. No harm, no foul, right?" I said, walking away. I was ready to put distance between us so I could process and categorize everything. Much to my dismay, Dean kept pace with me.

"Seriously, I'm good," I said, trying to get rid of him.

"Madison, come on," he pleaded.

"Fine," I caved, exasperated at his persistence.

I nearly groaned out loud when he smiled broadly at me. He looked like a puppy eagerly waiting for a treat.

The walk to the student parking lot was long, and although I wouldn't admit it to Dean, I was glad I'd accepted his offer. Passing out had made my head foggy, and left my legs shaky. It would have taken me forever to walk the two miles home.

Dean's jeep was parked next to an oversized muddy pickup truck with wheels twice as big as normal. I knew without even looking at the driver who the vehicle belonged to. Our school had no shortage of good old country boy, beer-guzzling, cow-tipping, loudmouthed rednecks. Needless to say, being a silent, pale-skinned, dark-haired freak made me stick out like a sore thumb.

I kept my eyes averted from the driver as he sneered down at me. "Dean? Dude, you slumming?" he asked, tossing an empty beer bottle into the bed of his truck. His drinking clarified my suspicions that half the student body would be starting their weekend early.

"Don't be a dick, Kirk," Dean said, climbing into his jeep.

I opened my door and climbed in too.

"I guess Dean doesn't mind sloppy seconds," I heard Kirk say snidely as I closed the door behind me.

I didn't need to look at Dean to know he'd heard the comment too. Neither of us acknowledged it as he threw the jeep in reverse and peeled out of the parking spot. I was thrown back against the seat as he gunned the engine and tore away. The speed was exhilarating. Donna was a speed limit queen, and most times went a couple miles below the limit just to be safe. I wouldn't have pegged Dean as a speed demon, but I wasn't arguing. When I was finally able to peel myself off the back of my seat, I glanced over at him. I expected to see an exhilarating smile on his face that matched the way I was feeling, but I was surprised to see that he gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

I pondered what had set him off, but realized he was most likely pissed that Kirk had seen us together. I'm sure being reminded I was a "slut" hadn't helped. I felt bad for him. He'd signed up to be a tutor, not to become a social leper.

"I'm pretty sure Kirk was halfway plastered," I reassured him. "Turn right, here," I added, directing him to my house. "He's an ass. By tomorrow he'll forget he even saw us together."

"You think I'm pissed because Kirk saw us together?" he asked incredulously, slamming on the brakes when I pointed out my house.

I jerked forward only to be thrown back by the tightening of the seatbelt as it held me in place.

"Mother F, are you trying to give me whiplash?" I demanded, glaring at him.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" he asked, concern replacing his anger.

"I'll live," I said, rubbing my shoulder where the seatbelt had dug in.

He lifted his right hand toward my shoulder only to stop halfway. "I'm sorry, that was a bonehead move. I shouldn't have been driving like an idiot."

"I didn't mind the speed. Matter fact, it was kind of nice," I admitted. "I just need a little warning before you decide you want to see what I look like as a hood ornament."

"I see. So, you're a speed junkie," he joked.