his hand off the gearshift and transfers it to my leg, his palm warm even through my jeans. “You don’t know,” he says. “Maybe the list is cursed. Like there’s a price you have to pay for being so hot.”
I have to work to keep the disgust out of my voice. “That might be the stupidest thing I have ever heard. And not even funny, because I’m on that list.”
“Thanks to me.”
“I know you voted for me,” I say, not sure if Josh is really expecting me to thank him or not. I look to the window, my eye on an interstate sign as he slides into the right lane. “I can’t believe I got any votes at all, let alone one from you and enough to make the list.”
“More than enough,” Tyler says.
I turn around to stare at him. “How do you know?”
He looks up from his phone, but not at me. He catches Josh’s eye in the rearview and they exchange a silent message, Josh’s expression clearly a warning.
“Did you count votes?” I ask Tyler.
I see Josh give the tiniest shake of his head and some fire shoots through me. “Did you?” I ask Josh. A guilty look passes between the two of them, followed by silence.
“Josh,” I say. “Do you guys know who tallied the votes?”
“It’s a secret, Kenzie. We can’t say.”
More secrets? “Or what?”
Another exchanged look, and this time Tyler kind of laughs nervously. And neither of them says a word, which just tightens my stomach with all kinds of aggravation.
“I think, given that two girls from the list have died, you owe me an answer, Josh.”
He doesn’t respond, easing onto the ramp to I-70. “Where are we going?” I ask. I didn’t plan to get this far out of Cedar Hills, let alone leave the town of Vienna.
“I’m thirsty,” Josh replies. “Let’s get some brewski.” He juts his chin at a highway sign that says it’s nineteen miles to Wheeling, West Virginia. “Gotta love the rednecks in Dubya-V-A,” he says. “Never look twice at a fake ID.”
“Do you really know how the votes are tallied?” I ask again. “Do you know if it’s … legit?”
“Fifth, you do not give yourself enough credit. Of course it’s legit. You are top ten, and you”—he squeezes my leg—“are in for the ride of your life.”
Sliding around a van to get in the left lane, he slams on the accelerator, taking my breath away. “Hey!”
“Relax.” He gives the steering wheel a pound and turns up the music. “This machine was made for speed. Why take forty minutes to get our beverages when I can get us there in twenty?”
“Please, slow down.” I pull at my seat belt, a low-grade panic rising with the speed of the car.
He responds by flooring it, revving the expensive engine, and whipping around a slower car.
“Look, I don’t care about the voting,” I lie, aware that every vein in my body is pulsing. “And I don’t want to drink, so—”
“We do,” Tyler says, proving again that he’s hearing everything we say, despite the earbuds.
“Then get something at your house. Your grandfather’s hardly strict about you drinking at home.”
“Just chill, Kenzie. This is what we do.”
But it isn’t what I do. What made me think this was a good idea? I don’t cut class with two football players I hardly know and get booze from across the state line.
I inhale slowly, forcing myself to do exactly as he says: chill. But questions plague me. I go to the one that bothers me the most.
“How many boys count the votes?”
Josh laughs softly. “Damn, woman, you’re relentless.” He adds a devilish smile that has probably gotten him through most sticky situations in his life that involved a female on the opposing side. “After we get our refreshments, I’ll tell you.”
Ty leans forward. “But then he’ll have to kill you.”
At my gasp and look of horror, Josh cracks up. “He’s teasing, Fifth.” But he can’t wipe the smile from his face as he taps a button on the steering wheel to make the music so loud no one can think or talk. The whole car vibrates with bass, or maybe that’s my insides. My stomach is doing cartwheels, my heart is jackhammering, and my head is screaming Get the hell out of here.
But we just keep going faster.
“Josh.” He ignores me, drumming the steering wheel to the beat, so I grab his arm. “I really want to go back to school.”