My headlights practically reflected off her platinum locks. I turned my blinker off and instead of turning at the light, I drove straight into the park parking lot when the light turned green.
My loud car caught her attention and she looked up. I cut the engine and got out. She was writing in the sand beneath her with her shoe as I walked over to the swings. Sitting in the swing next to her, I pushed over and softly bumped her knee with mine.
“The boys were asking about you. I think Keaton has a serious crush on you.”
The side of her mouth tilted up, but she continued to stare at her feet. We sat in silence after that until finally she leaned her head back and sighed.
“I’m sorry for that back there,” she said without looking at me. “I don’t usually claw the hell out of people who are trying to keep me from falling.”
Sure, I had originally wrapped my arm around her to keep from falling, but I kept it there for much different reasons.
“Don’t worry about it. I was feeling you up after a certain point. So we’re even.” I grinned at her when she looked at me with wide eyes.
“Really? Well, in that case, serves you right.” She smirked back at me and let me know she was teasing me. “Is that what happened to your eye? Did some chick punch you for being too touchy feely?” she laughed.
I had forgotten about my eye.
“Yeah, something like that.” I nodded.
She leaned back and pushed off with her feet. I held on to the two chains holding the swing up and watched as she went back and forth beside me.
“So, what’s your deal, snowflake?” I asked.
She looked over at me. A strand of blond stuck to her face.
“What do you mean?” she slowed.
Again, she didn’t correct me when I called her snowflake. I’d won that battle.
“What do you do when you’re not being the governor’s daughter, the soccer star, the Good Samaritan, or a wannabe rocker chick at The Pit?”
Her brows puckered as she thought for a minute.
“I don’t really do much else, I guess. Just school and stuff.”
“You go to the prep school, right?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yep.”
Chet had told me about the sexy schoolgirl uniforms they wore there, and I pictured her in it. Damn.
“I’d like to see you in your sexy schoolgirl uniform,” I said.
Her cheeks turned bright pink and she shook her head. “Are you always so blunt?”
“Always,” I said as I leaned back in the swing.
“I suppose I like that about you,” she said softly, like she was confessing something huge. “It’s refreshing. Even if you do say some pretty vile things.” She reached out and playfully pushed my arm. “What about you? What’s your deal?”
“I don’t really have a deal. My dad’s no governor, I’ve never played any sports, but I’ve played the guitar since I was seven, I don’t help people, and I could never pull off the rocker chick look.” I swiped at my bangs like a girl would.
She laughed at the last part and it made me smile. She had an amazing laugh.
“Well, that’s pretty cut and dry, except you’re wrong about one thing.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
She looked over at me and her ponytail rested against the side of her face. “You helped me.”
She had me there. I still didn’t know what made me help her in the bathroom that night at The Pit. It was a question I’d asked myself a few times. I was changing some and I wasn’t sure I was okay with going soft since I needed my hard shell to keep myself alive.
“Only because I was hoping to get laid.” I lied.
“If you say so,” she said as she pushed off on the swing once more. “So you live with your dad?” she asked.
I didn’t want to answer, but since I’d initiated the questions, I felt like I had to.
“Yes.”
“Do you ever see your mom?” She stopped swinging and pulled her hair out of her ponytail. I got caught up in her movements as she ran her fingers through it.
“No, I don’t see my mom. And unless I straighten my ass up so I can go to heaven when I die, I probably never will. She died a few years back.” The words burned my throat as I said them.
I rarely talked about my mom. Mostly because it caused this strange pressure in my chest that I didn’t like, but also because I