Page 65 of Rules for Rule Breaking
Winter Park
29. WE WILL NOT ENTERTAIN PEACE NEGOTIATIONS
When the mechanic shop finally opened a few hours later, Winter and Bobby retrieved the car. They were on the road for a short while before they had to stop for gas. Winter waited while Bobby got out and ran inside the station, returning with a brown paper bag and two coffees. Winter opened it and unwrapped a disgusting, gooey cherry Danish.
“I know you get cranky when you don’t eat hourly,” Bobby said with a satisfied smirk.
Winter bit into the Danish like it was the first food she had seen in months.
Bobby took the plug out of the gas tank and did some fiddling with the gas pump. A man in a uniform came charging out of the convenience store, yelling, “Hey!”
Bobby nearly dropped the nozzle. Winter was going to be pissed if the gas station exploded before she had time to finish her Danish. It was one of the best she had ever had. It was flaky but not too dry, buttery but light; the cherry filling was sweet but not too syrupy. In a word, it was perfection.
“You can’t pump your own gas here. It’s illegal in New Jersey,” the gas station attendant said to Bobby.
Bobby turned bright red. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
He got back into the car with his tail planted firmly between hislegs, and the gas station attendant picked up where Bobby left off.
“You broke a rule without meaning to. Doesn’t count,” Winter said, only mildly paying attention. Her focus was on her treat.
Bobby’s mouth fell into a flat line on his face. “This isn’t a competition.”
“Isn’t it always with us? Keeps things interesting.”
“We’re not an old married couple.”
“Whatever.” Winter was licking the sugar off her fingers. “Didn’t you know, anyway? Aren’t you from New Jersey?”
“I’ve never driven here.”
“Likely excuse.”
Winter was absolutely destroying napkins as she tried in vain to wipe off her hands. Her scrunchie had slipped down her ponytail and was prepared to make its final leap. She kept pushing her hair back with her arm so as not to get sugar in it, but it only went right back to her face, making everything even messier. Her hair ties often walked off the job because of unfair working conditions, so she frequently found things like cherry jam or maple syrup in her hair when she washed it. This was nothing new.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Winter asked.
Bobby’s eyebrows went up. “Nothing. I mean no reason. You’re just a sight to behold.”
“You’re still looking at me.”
“Because you’re talking to me.”
Winter glowered. “Well, I’m going to stop talking now. You’re making me nervous.” She brushed her hair back with her arm again.
“Do you need help?” Bobby asked. He was gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“Yeah.” She leaned toward him. “Can you put my hair up for me?”
Bobby raised his chin and looked down at her. “You want me to do your hair?”
“You don’t need to go all Jonathan Van Ness. I just need you to get it out of my eyes.”
“I’ll do you one better. Turn around.”
Winter didn’t know what he was going to do, but she was curious to find out, so she turned around and looked through the window. Bobby slipped the hair tie out of her failing ponytail that had started as a messy bun. He grabbed all her hair and jerked her head back playfully. She gasped, and he chuckled. He started braiding, his fingernails grazing against her scalp each time he made a part.
“Overachiever,” she said dryly.
