“How did it go?” Nixon asks as soon as I open the door and slide inside the car.
“It was…” I stop, leaning my head against the headrest to gather my thoughts. “Okay. Quiet, but okay.”
“That’s good, right?”
Nixon smiles, a dimple popping in his cheek. He’s been doing that a little more lately. And every time I see it, I give myself a second to cherish the moment.
“He was there, waiting,” I say, still dumbfounded.
I was preparing myself for disappointment that never came, and now I don’t know what to do with myself.
Nixon cups my face, his thumb sliding over my cheek. “That’s because you, Yasmin Hernandez, are worth waiting for, worth staying for.”
I lean forward, pressing my lips against his. “I love you, Nixon.”
A smile flashes across his face, as it always does when I say those four words. “I love you too.”
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Chapter 1
AMELIA
“Stone Cold” is playing on the radio as I drive my Volkswagen Golf to the school. The car may be old, but it’s reliable. Kind of. Maybe I heard some strange noises coming out of it a time or two. But it’s something normal, right? Strange noises coming out of old things give them charm, give them character. People say it all the time.
Anyway, the car is mine, and that’s all that matters to me. The last three summers I was working my butt off helping my aunt in her hair salon and saving money so I could buy myself a car.
It’s the first day of school and the first day of my senior year. The beginning of the end. I’m one step closer to freedom, one step closer to getting out of hell and starting a new life—life away from this city and its people.
The phone on the console in front of me starts ringing. Lowering the music, I give a quick look at the screen before connecting the call and putting it on speaker.
“Where are you, Lia?” My best friend’s voice comes from the speaker.
“On my way to school, Brooks. Where would I be?”
“You’re late.” I can hear the noises around her, meaning she’s already there. I roll my eyes at her accusatory tone. “I was worried,” she adds, this time a little softer.
“No need to be. I simply overslept,” I reassure her, feeling slightly guilty. Brook is my best friend, always there for me and standing by my side, even when things aren’t pretty. How many people do that? She knows how difficult it is for me to return to school each fall, so of course she’s worried. “I should be there in time for homeroom. Save me a seat, will ya?”
It’s not like somebody is going to take the front row seats anyway. Most of the time, the two of us are invisible. Most being the keyword.
Some strange noises start coming from my car, and a light on the console turns red. “Ohh shit!” I groan loudly. “Not now.”
“What’s going on?” She sounds worried. “Why are you yelling?”
“Something’s wrong with the car. I have to pull over. I’ll see you later in class, okay?”
“Later.”
She hangs up, and I pull over to the side of the road. Not knowing what I should do, I simply stay in my seat. Looking in front of me, my hands grip the steering wheel tightly, turning my knuckles whiter than they already are.
“You can do it, Lia,” I murmur to myself as I take one deep breath and open the car door. “You can do it.”
Going to the front of the car, I lift the hood and look inside. All those wires and tubes and… whatever. Blackness and dirt, that’s all I understand about it. How the hell should I know what’s wrong with this thing?
I bite into my lower lip to stop it from wobbling. I’m already tired and frustrated from my dream and from oversleeping. The last thing I need today is to be late for class or to have a mental breakdown—and here I am on my way to both.
Taking the phone out of my pocket, I try dialing my dad, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Just fucking perfect,” I swear under my breath. After the beep, I explain to him what happened and where my car is.
If I start walking now and hurry, I’ll be late for class by just a few minutes.
I’m about to close the hood when I hear the sound of a bike nearing. It’s some kind of fancy, sleek, black bike. It starts slowing down, only to stop next to my car.
The driver’s also dressed in all black—black helmet and leather jacket, black jeans and biker boots. He takes off the helmet and holds it against his side while he runs his right hand through messy strands of dark brown hair.
He’s handsome, so handsome he looks like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine.
“Need help?”
His voice is smooth, easy-going. He gives me a crooked smile, and his almond-shaped, gray eyes have a hint of teasing light in them.
“If you know how to get this thing going.” I shrug, pointing with a thumb over my shoulder at my good-for-nothing car. I’m not usually so careless to talk to or accept help from a complete stranger, no matter how hot they are, but I don’t have much choice right now. Not if I want to get to school on time and not draw attention to myself on the first day of classes.
“Let’s see. What happened exactly?”
He gets off the bike in one smooth motion, like he’s done it a hundred times before. He probably has. I tell him about the strange sounds and the light going on as he gets under the hood.
I look at him while he works.
He’s around my age, but could be older. It’s hard to guess because he has this whole older, bad-boy vibe going on, and I’ve never seen him around school or town. I would know; everybody knows everybody around here, all the way back to diapers.
Add to it that he looks a little bit dangerous. Everything about him screams beware, bad boy, trouble—all dark and mysterious, giving sexy half smiles and trading fingers through hair. And is that a tattoo peeking through the sleeve of his shirt?
He turns around, startling me. “It’s definitely the oil.” Gray eyes narrow, looking at me. “Were you just staring at my butt?”
“What?” A shriek leaves my lips. “I did no such thing!”
His smile grows even wider, confidence oozing from every pore of his body. “You so were.” He leans into the car. “But it’s okay. Good to know all the workouts pay off.”