This Much is True - Tia Louise Page 0,30
better because they’re rich. Like making a lot of money means someone is good or admirable, whether or not they really are.”
“Oh, yeah.” He nods, sliding his hand up the steering wheel. “Or not taking a job that might help somebody because it won’t make you a lot of money?”
“Sure. Or thinking people aren’t so good because they don’t have a lot of money.” My eyes drift out the window to the big green sign telling us we’re almost to South Carolina. “You know who didn’t have a lot of money?”
“Who?”
“Jesus.”
“Yep.” Scout nods.
We’re quiet a minute, thinking. The tires hum on the road and Heart sings softly about Dreamboat Annie.
Scout glances at me and winks. “I still want to make a lot of money.”
“Me too.” Grabbing another Red Vine, I contemplate our dilemma. “Maybe knowing we fetishize wealth too much is enough?”
“How did I sign up for Philosophy with the Blonds?” JR groans, sitting up in the backseat.
Shifting in my seat, I rest my chin on my hand and smile at him. “Sleep okay?”
“No.”
My lips press together, as I try to stop a laugh. He’s such an old grump. “Maybe tonight will be better.”
“Doubt it.” He rubs a hand over his face. “Where are we, Scout?”
“Just past Augusta, closing in on the state line.”
“Three more hours.”
I glance out at the mixture of pine and oak trees flying past. They’re a blur of deep, forest green almost black and shimmering pine needles almost yellow. It’s so different here from California, where it’s all palms for days.
Speaking of California, as soon as my phone came back to life, it blew up with texts from Yarnell.
“I really should call home. My friend’s probably wondering why I never showed up at her place.”
Scout glances in my direction with a smile. “Won’t bother me.”
“Maybe I could get in the back?” I look to where JR is focused on the window.
It’s down, and the strong breeze musses his golden-brown hair, making it flop over his brow. It’s shiny and thick with a slight curl at the ends, and it’s so soft.
I remember threading my fingers in it, giving it a tug… I imagine doing it again, with him on top of me pressing me into the mattress.
Ice blue eyes level on mine, sending a flush through my body. “What?”
“I just need to make a phone call… I was thinking I’d get back there so I’m not talking in Scout’s face.”
“You want to switch places?”
“Is that okay?”
He scoots to the side, and I climb onto my knees before diving over the bench. My dress catches on my knee, and the top pulls down, exposing the top of my bare breast. Finding my seat, I pull it up quickly, but JR’s eyes are on me, hot as a brand.
He doesn’t say anything, but his expression is fierce as he slides into the front. I know he saw it. I know he liked it, and it’s a thrill low in my stomach even if he’s fighting it.
Pulling out my phone, I tap Yarnell’s number and wait for the ring.
She answers fast. “Hope? What the hell? I was about to drive to your house, start a search party, drag the shoreline for your body—”
“I’m sorry!” I cry, trying not to be too loud.
“You called me from the bridge and said you were coming here, then you never showed up! I texted and texted…”
“I know! My phone died, and I just saw—”
“Don’t ever do that again!” She’s shouting in my ear, and I hold the phone away, smiling and feeling like I might cry at the same time.
My emotions are so twisted, and I miss my friend so much.
“Where are you?” She demands.
“I kind of took a road trip.”
“A road trip? But I thought you sold Metallicar?”
“I did.” My eyes are on the side of JR’s face. “I kind of met the new owner, and… it’s a long story. He needed help driving.”
“You’re on a road trip with a complete stranger?” Her voice goes loud again.
“And his brother.”
“Do I need to call the police?”
“No! Like I said, it’s a long story, but it’s kind of fun. They’re nice.” My eyes drift from scowling JR to relaxed and happy Scout. “We’re getting to be friends.”
Yarnell’s voice is worried. “Things are strange right now, Hope. People aren’t making the best decisions…”
“I’m fine, Yars, really. We’ve been driving pretty much nonstop, but I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Too late.” Her voice is sarcastic.
“It’s going to be okay. We’re almost there, and then…” My heart