Scored (V-Card Diaries 1)

Derrick picks me up and we head over the bridge into New Jersey and still there isn’t so much as a peep from my phone, aside from an alert from my coupon app that I can save big on fall gourds next week at my local health food store.

I’m beginning to think I was wrong about Ian—maybe he was relieved to read that note—when Derrick turns right, instead of left, at the first turn leading into our old neighborhood.

I glance his way and jab a thumb over my shoulder. “Wrong turn, right? Or have I forgotten the way to Dad’s house?”

“You haven’t forgotten,” Derrick says, his gaze still fixed on the road. “We’re just making a quick detour. Or maybe a not-so-quick detour, depending.”

My forehead bunches. “Depending on what?”

“Oh, a lot of things, I guess,” he says vaguely. “I don’t presume to know much about love, but I know Ian is head over heels for you. He’d give his life for you. Which he almost did last night when I threatened to kill him for seducing you.”

My lips part to explain that I seduced Ian, not the other way around, when Derrick beats me to it. “But he explained that you were the one who started things as well as the one who finished them.” He glances my way. “But I have a strong feeling you were pushing him away for his own good. Is that right?”

I gulp and press a hand to my chest, where my heart is thrashing against my sternum. “Yes, but what… Where are we going? What did you do?”

“I’m giving him a chance to convince you that you’re what’s good for him. I figured it’s the least I could do after giving him a black eye.”

“What?” I shake my head. “No, this isn’t right. I can’t, Derrick. He has to go to Portland or wherever else he decides to go. He can’t stay here for me. I can’t be responsible for ruining his chance at making the most of his talent.”

“Love and commitment are scary. I get it,” he says, slowing as we approach Ian’s family home to see all the Foxes out in the front yard. The adults are drinking beers around a firepit while the grandkids jump in the bouncy house inflated on the front lawn. As soon as I see Ian’s mom’s warm, welcoming smile, so many memories come rushing back.

She was like my second mom after mine left and always there when I needed help from an older, wiser woman. Kay is the one who bought me my first box of pads and who explained how to use tampons when I decided I couldn’t stand to keep sitting on the sidelines while my friends splashed in the community pool. She was the one who helped me take in the prom dress I found at the thrift store and took pictures when Jess and Harlow came to pick me up in the limo.

I love her so much and I know she loves me, but will she still love me if I set off a bomb in her son’s career?

As I emerge from the car, my knees unsteady and my pulse even unsteadier, Kay envelops me in a big, hard hug and whispers, “No matter what, you’re still one of my girls. You always will be. Even if you say no.” She pulls back, beaming down at me as she adds, “But I hope you’ll say yes.”

“Yes to…what? Exactly?” I ask, my voice trembling nearly as hard as the rest of me.

Kay smiles. “You should ask Ian about that. He’s in the backyard waiting for you. But if you’re hungry, I can get you a hot dog before you head back. He won’t mind waiting a few more minutes.”

“I could probably fly easier than I could eat right now,” I confess, making her laugh.

“Understandable,” she says, giving my arm an encouraging squeeze. “Then head on back. We’ll be here when you’re finished, but we won’t bother you unless you want to be bothered. If you want, you can jump right back into the car with Derrick and head off, no stress, no mess.”

Right.

No stress or mess…

I adore Kay, but she’s always been almost delusionally optimistic. Though, to think of it, his dad, Jack—who waves and booms, “Hey there, Evie!” as I pass by the firepit—is pretty upbeat, too.

Clearly, Ian comes by his hopeful streak honestly.

I don’t want to dent his spirit any more than the team has dented it already, but I don’t see a way forward for us. I may have made my decision quickly when I wrote that note and ran, but that doesn’t mean I made it casually or didn’t think things through.

I’m preparing to explain that to Ian, while hopefully holding myself together, when I step through the gate into the backyard and all my good intentions evaporate in a rush of emotion.