Page 69 of Something Rad
My feet feel like they’re glued to the porch, but I force them forward and down the steps.
No turning back now.
I climb into the car, setting my backpack at my feet. I fasten my seatbelt then run my suddenly very sweaty palms down the front of my skirt, my gaze staying on the ground. It’s like I’m telling myself that if I don’t look at Robbie, this isn’t real. That I’m not sitting in Robbie Summers’s Camaro right now. That I’m not about to show up to school with him and have more sets of eyes on me than I’ve ever had in my life.
Robbie pulls away from my house, turning the radio on and immediately dialing the volume up to a level that vibrates the vehicle. Pat Benatar’sHeartbreakerstarts blaring through the speakers, and I can’t help but chuckle at the irony.
“You good, Cooper?”
I turn my head, looking at Robbie for the first time since getting in his car. I can see his dark brows raise over the top of his Ray Bans. My eyes travel down to his singular hand resting on the steering wheel and back up to his face. I zone in on his features. The curve of his full lips. His straight white teeth. His perfectly imperfect skin, tanned and smooth in just the right areas, with the most precisely placed scattering of beauty marks that most of today’s supermodels would kill for. The gravity defying swoop of chestnut brown hair curling just perfectly against his forehead. The eyes I know are hiding behind those sunglasses that can shift from the chocolate brown eyes of a little puppy dog to the amber eyes of a grown wolf on the hunt within seconds.
“You’re the right kind of sinner to release my inner fantasy,” blares through the otherwise silent car. “The invincible winner. And you know that you were born to be a heartbreaker.”
I swallow.
Yeah, Pat. You got that right.
As much as he makes my blood boil, and as much as I would never admit this out loud, Robbie Summers has all the makings of a heartbreaker. The looks, the swagger, the attitude, the impulsivity, the…undeniability.
“Dream maker, lover taker. Don’t you mess around with me,” Pat continues to sing.
I fist my skirt in my hands at my sides.
I won’t let him. Not a chance in hell. This is strictly business.
“Cooper?”
I snap out of my trance, looking at Robbie.
He lowers his sunglasses just slightly. “You don’t look so good.”
My fists unclench.
Yep, trance successfully broken alright.
“Gee, thanks,” I deadpan. “You tell all your girlfriends that?”
Robbie glances between me and the road a few times before he answers. “Only the ones I don’t actually like.”
My lips part.
Ouch.
“I mean–”
“I don’t think it’s a necessary requirement of our…arrangementthat we talk when we’re alone together,” I interject, cutting Robbie off. “Is it?”
Robbie flexes his jaw. “I’m all for it not being a requirement.”
“Good,” I reply, an edge to my voice.
“Good,” Robbie says back immediately, matching my tone.
I cross my arms, turning to look out my passenger side window. I say nothing, but my mind is screaming a million thoughts. Most of which involve this being a horrible idea. We aren’t even ten minutes into this, and we’re already at each other's throats. How can we possibly go an entire school day without anybody noticing hownotinto each other we are? Without anyone noticing how we can barely occupy the same space without an explosion happening?
“Cooper, I can feel the heat radiating off of you.”
My head snaps in Robbie’s direction. “What?”
