the screen three rows of cars ahead of his old Ford.
Bored and grossed out, I plucked my phone from my purse to find a text from Adela.
Adela: He make a move yet?
Pursing my lips, I eyed Clive’s handsome, clean-shaven profile, then shoved a handful of popcorn into my mouth.
Me: Negative.
Adela: What gives???
Me: No idea, but I’m bored to tears.
Huffing, I made an effort to seem extra invested in my phone, hoping that might rally some kind of reaction from him.
Adela: Want me to call? Pretend it’s your mom?
I snorted, and still, Clive’s dedication to the movie didn’t waver. I was tempted to go, but Mom had already told me I could text her and have her bail me out.
Me: Nah. I’ll call you when I get home.
I tucked my phone back inside my purse, stole the entire box of popcorn for myself, then settled into the seat.
Purse in hand, I opened the door. “I had a nice time, thank you.”
“Me too. I’ll, ah…” Clive paused, eyeing the big bus through the stream of his headlights, and the males surrounding it. “I’ll see you at school?”
Still confused about his lack of interest, I nodded and shut the door a little too hard behind me.
The bus was now in the drive, and I narrowly rounded it, ignoring the snorts and laughter the idiots on the other side of it tried to muffle, and headed for the door.
Mom opened it before I got there. “Well, how was it?”
“The movie was horrible.” I crinkled my nose at the memory of the gore. “So, kind of boring.” I kicked off my shoes inside and headed down the hall as Mom closed the front door. “Where’s Dad?”
“Outside with the boys. Determined as hell,” she quipped, putting on the kettle. “I don’t know why. It’s not like he actually wants them to leave. Tea?”
“Please,” I said, dumping my purse on the dining table.
“So it was boring, huh?” She dunked two tea bags into mugs, pouring water in once the kettle clicked. “Not exactly what I want to hear about your very first date.”
“Technically, it wasn’t. Remember Ben from the third grade?”
“That was a playdate, honey.”
“Try telling him that.” He’d never let me forget he was my first boyfriend. Ben was now openly gay but loved to tell our friends we’d once “had a thing.”
I sat with Mom a while as we drank our tea, filling her in on Clive’s weirdness, the horrible movie, and then we spoke about Graham’s probable departure from the band.
She left not long before the front door opened and Everett strolled into the kitchen, taking a seat on Mom’s recently vacated stool beside mine at the counter.
“Have fun?” he asked.
I didn’t answer and sipped my tea. The airy note to his tone bothered me. The last thing I wanted was to admit to him it was… “Wait.” I placed my mug down. “You guys didn’t do something, did you?”
Staring at me point blank, he didn’t even try to deny it.
“Everett,” I growled.
“It wasn’t me.”
I raised my brows, then stood, glowering at him. “The audacity. You get to go out, do whatever and whomever you want, and I try to go on one freaking date with a perfectly nice guy, and you won’t even let me have that?”
He blinked up at me, smooth lips parting. “Clover, what?” He shook his head, and his forehead crinkled. “Hendrix. He texted Clive. Warned him he’d tell the school he’d been hooking up with the swim coach if he so much as touched you.”
I fell back, almost missing the stool, my shoulders and heart falling. “What?” I rasped.
Everett poked his lip with his tongue, then sighed. “He told me after you left.”
Heat crawled up my neck, infiltrating my cheeks, and I ripped my eyes from his searching ones.
I’d never felt so mortified. I’d basically admitted that I had a thing for Everett by accusing him like that. “God,” I breathed, standing and hightailing it to my room.
Everett followed, barging in as I tried to slam the door. “Clover, what you said—”
“Ignore it. It came out all wrong and wasn’t what I meant to say.” I flapped my trembling hands about, then raked them through my hair. “It’s nothing.”
He shut the door, striding close enough to halt my pacing. “I told you not to lie to me.”
I had nothing to say to that, so I took the pins out of my hair, allowing it all to cascade around my shoulders as I set them on the nightstand. “This is