“Oh, come on. You’ve seen the guys I hang out with, right? Tell me you don’t have some kind of preconceived idea of what kind of person I am.”
“I don’t know,” I lied, not wanting to offend him.
“Yeah, right,” he said, letting me know I hadn’t fooled him.
“I’d say you were a stoner.”
“Exactly, but would it surprise you to know I’ve never—ever done drugs, or drank any booze, or even tried smoking for that matter?”
“Seriously?” I asked amazed. I wasn’t a fan of drinking, but even I had done my fair share when I was with Lacey. I hated the taste, but it was all part of playing the popularity role.
“Yeah, seriously. My dad drove my mom away because of that shit.”
“Your mom left?” I asked, feeling like a heel.
“Yeah, years ago, right after my fifth birthday.”
“What?” I asked incredulously. What kind of mom leaves he son behind with an abusive alcoholic father.
“It was no biggie,” he said, trying to sound tough.
“Right,” I said skeptically.
“I survived,” he shrugged. “Besides, we were talking about you.”
“We were?” I asked, trying to sound dense.
“Nice try, Charlie Brown. Yes, we were talking about you. Just because you surrounded yourself with airheads didn’t mean you fit the mold. Pretending you’re something doesn’t mean you’ve succeeded.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, glancing at my cell to check the time. I was surprised the hour had gone by so quickly. He was easy to talk to.
Maddon and I stood up together and he trailed me out of the building.
“Kassandra, I’m serious,” he said, tugging on my hand to stop my forward motion.
“Why does it even matter to you?” I asked, feeling exasperated that he was pursuing the issue.
“Because, I don’t like the idea that you think so little of yourself,” he said.
“Why?” I said, throwing his hand off mine in frustration.
“Does it matter why?” he asked in a pleading voice.
“Oh, forget it,” I said, stomping off in a huff. I mean, seriously, what did he want from me?
“Kassandra, wait,” he said, jogging to catch up to me as I unlocked my car.
“Why?” I asked, repeating my question from earlier.
He sighed loudly and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Because I like you,” he finally said, meeting my eyes.
“You don’t even know me,” I whispered.
“I know more than you realize,” he said, withdrawing his hands out of his pockets and stepping close to me. “And what I know is pretty amazing,” he added, inches from me.
I took a half step back until my back was pressed up against the door of my SUV. “This is wrong,” I said as my heart galloped out of control.
“Why?” he asked, bracketing his hands on either side of me, pinning me against the side of the vehicle in a non-threatening way.