Page 79 of The Bad Girl List

I’m looking forward to seeing you, too, I had replied. Then I spent the next few minutes trying to find the perfect emoji to round out that sentence. In the end, I picked a flower and a smiley face.

She responded with her own smiley face and a thumbs up. That was the end of our conversation.

I started to text her at least a dozen times after that, but ended up erasing every message. Meeting Dom was changing me, but I didn’t know how to tell her that without being weird, especially when I wasn’t sure where things were between us.

Thomas and I drive through downtown Healdsburg, which is relatively quiet since it’s a weeknight. There are still tourists in town from Passport, like Dom’s family, but the majority have returned home.

Thomas leaves the plaza and enters the patchwork of tight streets lined with turn-of-the-century bungalows. There are lots of bed-and-breakfasts and boutique hotels down here.

A few minutes later, a familiar park comes into view. Giorgi Park is a place my mother brought us often when we were kids. There are several plastic play structures, a sandbox, tennis courts, and basketball courts. This is a place where local families hang out.

Along the back corner of the parking lot are big eucalyptus trees. Minnie’s beat-up silver Toyota Corolla is parked in the shadows, out of sight to anyone passing by on the street.

When we pull up beside them, I see the windows are fogged. A hand in the driver’s seat wipes away a circle. Minnie’s nose ring and dark make-up fill the glass. She grins when she sees us, holding up a glowing joint.

“Those bitches,” Thomas says. “They’re getting high without us!”

The muscles along my neck and shoulders tense. I’m reminded that I’d promised to smoke a joint with Dom. I’d also promised to take her to the tattoo shop. Two more strikes against me.

Thomas hustles over to the Corolla and opens the front passenger seat. A cloud of marijuana smoke billows out. If I didn’t know they were getting high inside, I would have thought the car was on fire.

I haven’t smoked pot since college. I always preferred alcohol to weed, but I’m up for anything if it means I get to hang out with Dom.

I swallow against a suddenly dry throat, taking my time getting out of the Tesla. My mind gallops at a thousand miles an hour and I try to think of what to say to Dom. Should I just act casual? How am I supposed to do that when all I want to do is grab her and hold her against me? What if she–

One of the back doors swings open. Dom leans out, her eyes glassy and her smile wide. Her buns are in disarray, half falling out.

“Trevor,” she says. “Hi.” She continues to hang half in, half out of the car, still smiling at me.

Everything in me eases. “Hey.” I smile down at her, taking in the languid muscles of her body. All day, I’d been worried about what I would say when I saw Dom tonight. And here I am, saved by a hotbox.

She doesn’t move. In fact, she seems to be settling into her hanging-half-out-of-the-car pose. “Heeyyy.” Her head lolls to one side as her smile stretches wider across her face.

“Excuse her.” Annika appears next to Dom. “She’s never been high before.” She puts her hand around Dom’s waist and pulls. “Out of the way, cutie,” she says. “Your grape farmer wants inside.”

Your grape farmer. Annika’s words, not mine. Is that a good sign, or is it just the weed talking?

I slide into the marijuana-infused car, feeling like I’m back in high school. The feeling is not unpleasant. It takes me back to a time when the most I had to worry about was an algebra test or whether Lindsey in fifth period English liked me.

“Heeey.” Dom’s head flops onto my shoulder, her dark eyes looking up at me. She’s sandwiched between me and Annika in the back seat. “You want to see my tattoo?”

I sure as hell want to see her tattoo after Annika’s description of her laid out on Chrissy’s table, but all I say is, “What did you get?”

“I drew it,” she says. “It was inspired by your vineyard.” She fumbles with the button on her cargo pants, but Annika bats her hands away.

“Keep your pants on, cousin,” she says. “This car is too small for a strip show. You can get naked as soon as we get to the pool.”

“No, no,” Thomas says, turning around in the front seat. “Keep going with the strip show. I’m all eyes.”

I scowl at him, but he ignores me, the end of the joint in his hand glowing bright orange as he inhales.

“Oh yeah,” Minnie says, her voice a sexy purr, “let’s see your tattoo, doll. I’m sure I have some dollar bills around if you want to dance for us.”

“You guys!” Annika barks a laugh, then grabs Dom by the shoulders when she attempts to stand. “Sit down! Don’t move until I tell you to. I did not bring extra saran wrap to keep your tat covered. It’s not supposed to get wet, remember?”

“Okay.” Dom returns her head to my shoulder, twisting her body so that she wedges up against me.

“Here.” Thomas holds the joint in my direction. He’s already taken several hits. “Fuck, it’s been way too long since I got high.”

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