Page 57 of Tristan & Isabel: Apartment 11F

“No. Just a regular car.”

“Aw. Well, okay.”

“Are you disappointed?” I ask with a chuckle.

“I mean… it would be a better story.”

“People don’t need the truth to tell stories. You can make up whatever you want. I’m surprised you don’t know this one from the local lore. What year did you graduate?”

“Just moved here three years ago.”

“Ah. That explains it. Well, word of advice? Don’t be nice to me. They’ll hate you too.”

She frowns, and I lean my head back against the wall.

“Was it an accident?” she asks after a pause.

“Of course,” I say quietly.

“And they sent you to prison for it?”

“They determined it was the result of reckless driving. Plus, I had a suspended license, among other things. You’d be amazed how many laws you can break with one action.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That was stupid of you.”

“Yeah.”

“I bet you feel bad about it.”

Bad?

“Fucking awful,” I say on an exhale.

She nods and quiets.

I tuck my freezing hands in my pockets as I stare out over the parking lot. Funny how not committing the crime hasn’t relieved any of the guilt.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a disappointing criminal.”

I glance at her in amusement. “Yeah?”

She scrunches her nose. “You’re too… nice. And cute. Like, really cute, but don’t get your hopes up. I have a boyfriend.”

I smirk and shake my head.

“Noted,” I say. “He’s a lucky guy.”

“He is, isn’t he?” She crosses her arms. “Actually, if I give you his number, can you tell him that?”

I grin and settle back against the wall. “You think it’s a good idea for some random dude to message your boyfriend about you?”

“Yep. It would keep him on his toes. Especially, if thatdudewas a hardened felon. Do you at least ride a motorcycle?”

“No.”

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