shoulder-bump hug all men seem to know.
“Thanks, dude. That was fresh. What a rush.”
“Well, maybe Mathias will invite you back soon. Would you guys be up for that?”
Tommy let loose with a big smile. “Sure thing, dude!”
Grace turned toward the exit and gave her friends a mental command to follow her, hoping they’d take the hint. Their group began moving again, sweeping her up in their camaraderie as they made their way outside.
“Good night, Grace,” Darius called out from behind her, again.
Not trusting herself to turn around, she continued walking and kept her eyes forward while trying to shoo her friends to keep moving. “Night!” Grace waved a hand from slightly above her head.
Outside the door, Grace said a quick good-bye to Zeke and Brian and hurried across the street to wait by the passenger door of the Blazer. Tommy and Emily finished their conversation and crossed the street. Tommy pushed the unlock button on the key fob and Grace jumped in before he and Emily even reached the car. Emily had barely shut the door before twisting her head in what seemed like an uncomfortable position in order to pin Grace with an uncompromising stare. “What was that about?”
“What was what about?” Grace said, trying to pull off oblivious.
Emily eyed her, making Grace squirm in her seat. “Oh, whatever.” Emily wasn’t buying it. Grace could never get anything past her. “How do you know Darius?”
“I don’t,” Grace replied. At that, Tommy swiveled in his seat, both their faces letting her know that she hadn’t convinced either of them. Grace sighed. “I don’t know him, I just met him.”
Emily flipped down the visor, concentrating on putting more strawberries and cream on her lips. “Oh, you like him,” Emily teased.
“I do not!”
Emily’s hand fell from her face, as she fixed her gaze on Grace through the mirror. “You so do too!”
“Believe what you want.” Grace crossed her arms and stared out the window, uncomfortably aware that her actions were a dead giveaway that Emily had nailed it.
“Well, you’ve certainly got your hands full.” Emily chuckled. “Quentin, Zeke, and now Darius. Good luck with that one!”
“Zeke is just a friend, which I think I’ve been pretty clear about.”
Emily turned forward, smiling, as Tommy snorted and stifled a similar grin from his side of the vehicle. “Mm-hmm,” Emily murmured.
By the time Leah squeezed into the car, Grace was not up for talking. Leah filled the time driving back to Woods Cross gushing about Brian’s new awareness of her. This time Grace was grateful for the ease with which Leah chattered. Periodically, Grace glanced over at Leah to give the impression she was listening when in actuality, all she could do was think about touching Darius, and the strange normalcy of it. Sadness consumed her as she mourned the relationship she could never have. She wasn’t normal. She hated being her.
Impending doom was the gripping feeling Quentin couldn’t shake as he followed Tommy’s Blazer from three cars back. Grace’s emotions were all over the map again, making it especially difficult to determine the actual feeling crushing his chest.
Road signs advised drivers of the speed limit slowing just up ahead, a warning of caution for a four-way stop light on the highway. Strategically, Quentin weaved through the few cars ahead of him, maneuvering his way behind the car directly behind the Blazer. His getting closer didn’t help lessen his worry; it magnified it. He grabbed his cell phone, and called Grace.
“Come on, pick up!” he yelled out loud.
Something was wrong.
“Hello?”
“Grace!”
That’s when it happened, his biggest nightmare. He watched helplessly as Tommy’s Blazer entered the intersection as a black SUV from the cross traffic accelerated, plowing into the section behind the passenger-side quarter panel, tossing the Blazer in the air to land on its side. The vehicle continued its momentum, scraping with sparked tracers across the pavement into the on-coming traffic on the opposite side of the highway. Quentin and all the other vehicles behind him skidded to a halt. The car directly in front of him veered right, driving off the shoulder to avoid the collision.
His heart would have stopped if it could. It constricted painfully in his chest. Grace. With all of his weight, he slammed his body against the door, pushing it open. Squealing tires and burning rubber assaulted his ears and olfactory senses the moment his feet hit the pavement. With one hand he reached for his blade, then took off with inhuman speed to the SUV responsible for the accident. He