"Who cares?" he said, leaning in close.
My breath hitched as he moved close to my lips. Panic seized me. It was wrong to yearn for the touch of his lips on mine. I didn't want them. I blatantly lied to myself.
"Let them look," he whispered a hair away from my ear. His breath fanned my hair and sent small shocks of awareness down my neck as they traveled throughout my body.
I needed to tell him to step away. He should know he was invading my personal space. Any words I may have uttered were lost somewhere between my brain that urged me to be sensible and my heart that felt we had paid enough for our crimes.
"Meet me in the student parking lot after third period," he said, disappearing down the hall before I could turn him down. Which really was my plan. Seriously.
I watched him until the students hurrying to class swallowed him up before heading off to Whore Cat's class myself. I slid into my seat just as the bell rang. Shoving my backpack under my seat, I tried to ignore the countless stares that bore into the back of my head. Ms. Jones was busy writing the day's assignment on the board when a crumpled up piece of paper hit me in the head before falling harmlessly to the floor. I debated ignoring it. It had been almost four years since the last paper ball had hit me in the head. They always had some kind of inane derogatory comment written on them. Using my foot, I scooted the ball of paper closer to me and reached down to pick it up. I smoothed it out and saw a crude drawing of a girl hanging upside down in some cave-like thing. "Go back to your bat cave, freak" was scrawled beneath the drawing. I fought the urge to snort. It was a shame that four years later they were still as unimaginative as they had been at thirteen.
>"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.
"I guess so. That's my first taste of it."
"What? Your parents never speed?"
I shook my head, not wanting to delve into my funked up home life.
"You must love roller coasters," he said as I unbuckled my seatbelt.
"I wouldn't know," I said, opening my door.
"Are you serious? You've never gone on the Hulk?" he asked, looking at me like I'd just stepped off an alien mother ship.
"Never been to a theme park," I said, stepping out of the vehicle.
He was still sputtering in shock when I closed the door behind me.
"Hey, I wanted to get your cell number," he asked, following me to my front door.
"Why?"
"You know, they have these new inventions called phones. I thought maybe I could call you on one, they're supposed to be a real hoot."
"Why?" I repeated like a two-year-old who was confused about why the sky was blue.
"Come on, to talk," he said, leaning against the wall as I unlocked the door.
The door swung open. "I don't have one," I admitted.
"You don't?" he asked like he didn't quite understand the concept. I couldn't blame him. I was pretty sure I was the only teenager who didn't have a cell phone. Until this moment, I never wanted one. "Okay then. Can I get your home number?" he asked, finally coming to terms with my lack of twenty-first century technology.
"Uh, I guess," I said, rattling off the number for him. I waited while he plugged it into his cell and then stepped into the house. "Well, thanks for the ride," I said, shutting the door.
He stopped it with his foot before it could fully close. "Just so you know, I wasn't pissed Kirk saw us. I was pissed by his comment," he said, turning on his heel and heading down the sidewalk.
"He was only speaking the truth," I said quietly, watching his retreating back.