I pull in a breath, realizing my bladder won’t make it to New Orleans. The car door opens without a sound—rising again instead of outward. It’s so weird and so cool, and yet I try to act unfazed by this because Tyler’s turned and is looking at me. I press for the door to close, and it does, silently again like the engine. Dad would love this. We’re parked at a bank of chargers, in the same parking lot as a Target and strip mall. The skies are a dark shade of gray, filled with rain clouds that make the air feel heavy and sticky.
“Is there time for me to walk over to Target?”
He glances at the red and white contraption that leads to his car to charge the battery and then at the store, as though gauging the distance and how long it might take me. The action makes me bristle. I know it’s not his fault—not entirely. There’s just something about Tyler Banks that grinds my gears. Maybe it’s the way Cooper talks about him and views him like he’s a god among men or because every other girl at Brighton falls at his feet. Or maybe it’s because his arrogance is obvious in the casual manner with which he carries himself and brief words that have me feeling like an inconvenience despite us having barely spoken. Or perhaps it’s the fact that five guys saw me make the giant mistake of kissing Tyler Banks and—
“We still have twenty minutes left,” he says, cutting me off mid-thought.
I won’t lie, the bullseye of a Target usually leaves me in a hypnotic state that makes hours feel like mere minutes, but I’m determined to go inside and find the restroom and coffee and be back in twenty minutes.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” I ask because although Tyler makes my teeth grind, he’s single-handedly the only reason we’re able to afford this cross-country adventure in a way that doesn’t require pitching a tent each night.
He shakes his head, his attention back on his phone. I stare at him for another moment, trying to understand the appeal that has so many girls lusting after him. His angular jaw and straight nose and blue eyes make him look like a cross between a young Charlie Hunnam and Matt Damon. But not Good Will Hunting, smiling Matt Damon. No, more like Matt Damon à la Jason Bourne: silent, intense, and angry at the world.
I tighten my grip on my purse and walk past him, the heat radiating from the blacktop, telling me the temperature is well over a hundred degrees, making me yearn for the beach and an umbrella.
I avoid the dollar bins and the cute swimsuits on sale just feet away and remain focused on my purpose and short timeline. I make a quick detour to the restroom before heading to the Starbucks, where I order a coffee and a passion tea for Nessie and get a couple of bottled drinks for Cooper and Tyler because although he said he didn’t want anything, it feels almost rude to get things for the others and not him. I stare at the cookies and muffins that make my stomach grumble, but the idea of bringing any of them into Tyler’s pristine car prevents me from ordering them, and that thought makes me wonder if he’ll mind me bringing drinks into the car.
I grab a handful of napkins and take my icy-cold coffee and the other drinks and head back out into the blazing heat. Vanessa and Cooper are awake, standing outside of the car with Tyler, laughing about something.
“You read my mind,” Nessie says, reaching for her tea. “Thank you.”
I hand Cooper the bag of bottled juices and coffees. “Since you always change your order, I didn’t know what to get you or Tyler, so I just picked up some stuff.”
He accepts it, a quick smile flashing across his features.
“I can’t believe I slept so long,” Nessie says, rolling her neck muscles while Tyler disconnects the car from the charger.
“I can. You barely slept last night,” I say.
She combs her fingers through her hair, her brow creased with concern as she silently asks me if it looks all right. We both inherited our mom’s cowlicks that make the right side of our hair go straight up and out unless it’s tamed and coated in product, but humidity and sleep can steal any semblance of calm we wrestle it into. I give her a quick nod of approval that has her sighing before taking a long pull from her drink.
“Where are we?” Cooper asks.
“Mobile, Alabama,” Tyler says. “We’re about two hours from the hotel.”
At the sound of his voice, I swear, a woman passing us sighs.
“Do you mind us bringing drinks into the car, or should we finish them out here?” I ask.
Tyler stares at my drink and then my face, folding his arms across his chest, his tight black tee straining against the muscles in his biceps. He grins. “You’re asking permission to bring a drink in the car?”
My cheeks heat with embarrassment. It hadn’t seemed like a stupid question considering his car is worth more than what most people make in a year. Especially considering my mom still grumbles if we take drinks into her car after Nessie spilled a McFlurry—eleven years ago.
“Next time, I’ll be sure to order a cookie,” I grumble.
His brow furrows with confusion, but I ignore it and Nessie’s complaints about the heat and get back into the car.
Once we’ve all piled in, Vanessa grins at me as she says, “I have an idea. Why don’t we play a game?” Warning bells echo in my thoughts as her eyes light up.
“What kind of game?” Cooper asks.
“Truth or dare,” Nessie tells him, leaning forward.
I shake my head. Nessie turns her attention to me and smiles, taunting me about my new motto to go with the flow and be spontaneous. I stop my silent objection and busy myself with my coffee, fishing for some of the whipped cream with my straw and licking it off of the end.
“Cooper,” Nessie begins. “Truth or dare?”
He chuckles, leaning his head against the seat. “Truth, I guess?”
Nessie grins. “What’s the most embarrassing thing in your room?”
“In Florida or Washington?”
“Both.”
Cooper runs a hand through his dark hair. “In Florida, I still have a box of Pokémon cards, and in Washington… Shit, I don’t know?”
“Definitely that awful pink stuffed bear on your desk,” Tyler says.
“Stuffed bear?” Nessie asks.
“Your truth didn’t require subtext,” Cooper says, shaking his head.
“That was before I knew a pink bear was involved.”
I giggle, sitting back in my seat and feeling surprisingly happy for Nessie’s suggestion to play as I slurp down my coffee, feeling the jolt of caffeine.
“It’s garbage,” Cooper says.
“The more elusive you are, the more I’m going to press you on this, you know that, right?” Nessie leans forward.
Cooper releases a heavy sigh. “Claire gave it to me.”
“Claire Claire?” Nessie asks, her eyes on me, wide with shock and a glint of pain. Cooper dated Claire Mayfair freshman year at Brighton. At first, I assumed it was his way of moving past his crush on Nessie—seeing her on dates every other night couldn’t have been easy. But then one date turned into three, which turned into five months. I knew he was hurt when she dumped him and moved on to a new guy a week later.
“Were there multiple Claires?” Tyler asks.
Cooper shakes his head dismissively. “Just the one. She won it while we were at the county fair, and the thing was so hideous that it creeped her out, so she put it on my desk.”