I grinned at him. “You are such a neat freak that you clean as you cook. It saves time.”
Nick couldn’t stand my cooking, not that I was much good at it, but I used everything in the cupboards to cook, and I meant everything. It drove Nick nuts.
Nick reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I replied softly.
It didn’t matter that Nick and I got on each other’s nerves. At the end of the day, he was all I had.
Five
“Scarlett!” My mother’s screams echoed through the walls of the car.
I wondered what was so important that she needed to yell at me. I was tired; I just wanted to sleep. Okay, I wasn’t just tired; I was also drunk.
I don’t even know why I went out tonight. If I wasn’t feeling up to it, I knew my parents would lecture me tomorrow. When I sat up straight, I couldn’t see a thing. The bright lights blinded me.
“Scarlett.”
I felt the pressure of my brother’s hands on my shoulders. He kept shaking me, but I was too scared to open my eyes or say anything. This was it, the part I was stuck on, the part I couldn’t move past no matter how hard I closed my eyes. I tried lying in bed and willing myself to continue, but it never worked.
My nightmare wasn’t a nightmare, but a memory. To be precise, the memory of the last time my parents were alive, and I couldn’t even remember all of it.
“Scarlett!”
My eyes snapped to my brother’s face. I blinked a couple of times, taking myself out of my daze and remembering that I was with him and he needed me.
“Nick.” I cupped his scruffy cheek. “I’m awake.”
There was no point in saying I was okay when my brother knew that was total bullshit.
“They’re back.” He was referring to my nightmares.
It was one of the reasons I stayed with my grandparents in summer break: to be away from it all. And once I managed them, I assured him I was okay.
I lied.
Truth be told, I didn’t want my nightmares to be gone. Even though they were painful, they served as a reminder of that night, and eventually, the whole memory had to come back.
“Only sometimes,” I said.
That was true; with therapy, I’d learned to forget and make peace with that night, even though I still asked myself all those questions.
How did I get out of the car? Did I talk to my parents before they passed? Why the fuck couldn’t I remember?
Therapy didn’t make the questions go away; it just helped me manage the urge to drive myself crazy with wonder.
It helped keep me sane. To me, the nightmares weren’t nightmares, but answers.
Mr. Reeves’s class was getting easier to manage. By Friday, I had it down to fight my urges to crane my neck so that I could look at Gavin. Let me just say it wasn’t easy. I’d tried to drop the class, but my counselor wouldn’t let me
I was stuck here for the rest of the year. When the bell rang, I did what I always did: pretend like Gavin wasn’t behind me. Keep my head down and do my work.
“Every Friday we’re going to do projects. Your partner for the semester is the person behind or in front of you.”
Collective groans went around the room. People started turning their desks around so they could face their partners. I was still processing the fact that Gavin was going to be my partner for the semester.
I shivered when I felt the tip of a pencil run down my nape. My back arched, and goose bumps appeared on my arms.
I heard a manly chuckle. “Turn around, Scar.”
I got up from my desk and turned it around so it was in front of Gavin’s. He was sprawled behind his desk, both long legs straight on each side, a black notebook in front of him, and that freaking pencil back behind his ear. Since football hadn’t started yet, he wasn’t wearing his number three jersey. I sat down, aware he was watching me.
“Are we going to be playing this game?”
Huh?
“What game?”
Gavin leaned forward on his elbows, close enough that I could smell the mint on his breath. “The one where we kiss, we pretend it never happened, you cry in my arms, and then you run scared. You like me one day, and the next day, it’s like you don’t fucking know me.”
I grimaced. I wasn’t expecting him to put it all out there. Gavin Dunn wasn’t one for sugarcoating. Instead of being brave and saying something that was going to lead to more questions, I took the easy way out.
A coward’s way out.
“I’m still trying to adjust.” My tone was low because even though it was an easy way out, that didn’t make the statement any less true.
His face morphed entirely, his eyes going soft.
I didn’t need his pity.
“You know I’m here for you, Scarlett. You need me, doesn’t matter what time or place, and I’ll be there.”
I believed him. I knew his words rang true, but if I needed help, he would be the last person I would ever call.
I was his girlfriend’s best friend. Gavin was a good guy. He watched out for me because of Gigi.
And because of Gigi, I vowed I would never again take comfort in his arms.
“So.” I cleared my throat instead of answering him. “Now that we’re friends and all, can we start on our work? I need an A in this class, and that means you better not slack off.”
Gavin scoffed and put his hand over his chest. “You wound me.”
He grinned. It was the type of grin that made girls swoon—a little teeth showing, a dash of mischief in those gray eyes, and a whole lot of swagger.
Shit, I was in trouble.
“I’ve been known to be a great partner.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, his voice dropping to a low timbre. “I’m attentive, caring, thoughtful, accommodating, open to new ideas.”
My cheeks started to burn. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, making him smile.
“And I always help my partner finish.”
Jesus.
“Okay, that’s enough. Stop,” I said.
He threw his head back laughing.
“What?” he asked with fake innocence.
“Stop being nasty.” I rolled my eyes.
It sucked that talking to him was so freaking easy. It wasn’t hard. I didn’t get nervous around him, not like most girls would. My nerves were because of Gigi.
“Scar.” He slid his pencil from behind his ear and tapped my nose with the eraser. “That was me being a good boy.”
Jesus, what would be him being a bad boy? I wondered.
“You would melt, Davis.”
My eyes widened with terror when I realized I said that out loud.
Inner freaking voice, Scarlett, I had to scold myself.
I was relieved when I felt a pat on my shoulder. It was another class sheet; it gave me an excuse to compose myself.
I handed Gavin a sheet while I pretended to read mine, but I was actually looking at him. God, it was unfair for him to have eyelashes that pretty. Mine were curly only after I tortured them for fifteen minutes with an eyelash curler. His jaw was filled with scruff. When did he start rocking facial hair? I never allowed myself to look at him too closely. My palm itched with need to run it over his cheeks.
“Scarlett Dunn.” My head snapped up with horror at Gavin.