Page 5 of Faking Summer
"There are no other spots. I'd have to park a mile away!"
She didn’t turn back to look at me, she just laughed. "Sounds like you'll finally get to see what it's like to be in our shoes," she called out.
"Why are you being such a dick?" The words tumbled out before I could catch them, but they didn't faze her. She simply held up a hand, palm outstretched as if to silence me. I shook my head, incredulous.
I turned the wheel, the growl of my truck's engine roaring as Ipeeled away. Just as I got to the end of the lot, Evan emerged from between two cars. Evan and I were cool but only because he was on the baseball team and we ran in the same circle of friends. He was someone you could count on to be at all the parties, but never someone you could actually trust.
"Where you going?" he asked, an eyebrow raised in confusion.
"Caroline's on one today," I said, not bothering to shade the truth. "She took my spot, so I'm gonna be late to class."
He nodded slowly, as if weighing the gravity of my predicament. "Why don't you have her towed? You know if you get a tardy, Coach will have us all running laps in practice."
"Nah, all good," I said, forcing a nonchalant shrug. "I'll find a place to park." Caroline had the upper hand at the moment, but today was far from over. I was highly aggravated, but I liked something about the way she fired back at me—the way she gets worked up. Towing her car may have been what Evan would do but it wasn't my preferred method of retaliation. I’d find another way to get under her skin.
"Alright," he conceded, with a hint of respect. "Better man than I am." And with that, I left him standing there.
After what felt like a walk from the next town over, I ran into Caroline again in the hallway—the cheerleaders had the luxury of hosting and prepping for today’s pep rally, which means they were excused from class.
“I’m sure the whole team’s going to love the extra laps we’ll be running today because I’m late,” I said, sidestepping Caroline with a pointed look. “Big thanks for that.”
She turned to me, a pleased smile on her lips as she cocked her head. “Anytime,” she quipped. “You all could use the extra laps, anyway.” She eyed my stomach like I wasn’t ripped underneath my shirt.
"Has anyone ever told you how unpleasant you are?" I asked. My patience was wearing thin.
“Hmm. Let’s see, I’ve been called ice queen, a witch, bossy, don’teven get me started on my so-called target addiction… okay, maybe I’ll claim that one.”
"Cheerleading doesn't seem like the right sport for you." I paused, rubbing a hand across my jaw. "Maybe you should take up fencing… especially with that sharp-ass tongue of yours."
She stopped dead in her tracks, the rubber soles of her shoes squeaking against the polished floor. Spinning on her heel, she faced me, those striking blue eyes flickering from ice to stormy as they met mine.
"Coming from you?" she shot back. "People here don’t actually like you, you know." She jabbed a pom-pom at my chest. "They just suck up to you because your dad has money."
Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I wasn’t about to let her see that, so I let out a low chuckle. "I don’t think you’ve been paying attention. I’m adored around here," I said, pushing off the lockers and taking a step toward her. "I’m basically a legend. They’ll probably name a wing after me once I graduate."
"Who adores you?" she asked, tilting her head in a motion that sent her blonde hair shimmering down her shoulder. "The pathetic freshmen girls who follow you around? That doesn't count, Carrington."
My grin widened, as I closed the distance between us by half a step. "Aw, you have been paying attention… that's cute. How long you been watching me, Caroline?"
"I haven’t," she hissed through clenched teeth, and I caught the faintest quiver of anger in her voice. “You're the absolute worst, and I couldn’t care less about anything that has to do with you.”
Bingo. That was the spot, the nerve I'd been aiming for. There's an art to poking just enough to rile someone up without pushing them over the edge. And Caroline? Well, she was literally hanging on the edge.
"Am I?" I said, letting the words roll off my tongue slowly, savoring the taste of victory. "Because you started this. Were you just trying to get my attention? Is that what you wanted?"
"I’d rather plummet to my death from the top of a pyramid," Caroline spat out, putting a hand on her hip.
"Right. And it seems like every day now I keep finding someone's lunch leftovers in the bed of my truck. Someone who really likes peanut butter and jelly. Got any idea who that might be?"
Caroline didn’t move. She was the embodiment of the raging spitfire I knew her to be. "Maybe someone got confused," she replied, her sarcastic tone making the corners of my mouth twitch involuntarily. "Thought your truck was a dumpster, perhaps? You should probably get that checked out."
"Gotta say, Caroline, maybe you should spend less time worried about me and my truck, and more time worrying about your cheer routines. They're almost as shaky as your self-control around me."
She crossed her arms, the subtle shift in her stance revealing nothing but confident defiance. "At least I know how to stick a landing," she shot back. "Can't say the same for your curveball."
"Damn. You’re chaos.” I grinned, enjoying this more than I should. “Good one.”
"How about this? You stay away from me, and I'll do the same," she said, dropping her arms.
