The Perfect Escape (The Perfect Escape #1) - Suzanne Park Page 0,6

My tires squeaked, and I hesitated before descending into the dark unknown. Kate opened the door before I maneuvered down. “I can jump out here. It’s fine. It’s a pain in the ass to reverse out, and there’s a gate a few yards down.” She yanked her bag of food and milkshake from the center console and shouted, “Thanks for the ride!”

I grinned. “No problemo, se?orita.” Really, Nate? Spanish? My God. “It was really fun.”

Kate returned my smile, warming my insides. “It was! See ya Friday.” She shut the door and bounded down her driveway, disappearing into the night.

I’d see Kate in a week! After archery class and work on Monday, Krav Maga on Tuesday, self-defense and work on Wednesday, and cross-country on Thursday.

Google Maps let me know there were twenty-four minutes and eleven miles between Kate’s house and mine. So many questions swirled inside my head as I drove to the freeway.

Did she think I was weird?

Or maybe not that weird?

Just a little weird? Everyone was a little weird, right?

Why didn’t she ask about my school?

Would I get to drive her home again?

Why didn’t I get her number? Argh, Nate, you idiot.

“All I Want for Christmas Is You” blared on the tinny speakers, breaking my concentration with Mariah’s high-octave runs. Reaching down to switch off the radio, a mangy, wet pile of dark hair in the passenger seat caught my eye.

Kate’s wig.

How do you forget your hair?

I couldn’t call her because I didn’t ask for her number. Again: Argh, Nate, you idiot.

But maybe she’d come to work early on Friday.

Maybe.

I took the wig up to my bedroom because if my mom saw a girl’s anything in my possession, she’d lose her shit without letting me explain. What is this? Why you drive girls around in my car? Did she give you gas money? Don’t get distracted from school! I’d never brought home a pile of matted, fake hair before, so this was all new territory for me. I hid it between my mattress and my headboard for safekeeping. After homework, snack, and shower, I was ready for bed.

Kate’s fresh, lemony scent, just inches from my face.

Chapter Three

Kate

Cold, thick mist enveloped me like fog-machine smoke as I made my way to the security gate. My trembling, frozen fingers made it hard to punch the four-digit key code without timing out. The next gate required my fingerprint and/or face scan, and my full zombie makeup made the facial read impossible. Oops. Shivers traveled down my back as sprinkles fell from the sky. I pressed my thumb on the finger pad and waited. After a few seconds, the screen flashed GO in neon-green letters, and a flood of relief washed over me as the iron gate door clicked open.

I dropped my bag in the empty mammoth entryway. My shoes squeaked on the shiny white marble floor as I made my way to the bathroom to take a shower. With a wave of my hand, the automatic heat lamps whirred on, instantly warming my face. In the brightly lit mirror, I examined my runny makeup then glanced up at my hair.

My jaw dropped.

OH MY GOD. MY HAIR.

Where is my hair?

Nate saw me like this! Sweaty hair. In a hairnet. Sans wig.

Then, Oh, shit! IT’S IN HIS CAR!

Poor Nate. What a revolting thing for me to leave behind. Not a glass slipper, or a monogrammed handkerchief, or a lipstick-kissed napkin with my contact info on it.

I left hair.

HAIR.

Gnarly, knotted, sweaty hair. And I couldn’t warn him about it. He’d have to discover this on his own. He’d drive to Starbucks or something and BAM, a nasty pile of hair in his passenger seat. Could I please curl up and die?

Our house phone buzzed at top volume, and my heart nearly stopped. Dad had just installed a new communications system in every room, and this was one of the first times we had an incoming call or message. Was it Nate? Was he a super-genius