Biggest Flirts (Superlatives #1)(52)
Author: Jennifer Echols

She smirked at me. “Thanks.”

“You look like you dropped out of high school and spent the last five months smoking pot, getting screwed, and watching TV.”

“The cable got cut off.” She settled back against the seat and let out another long sigh. “Downtown Tampa is really beautiful.”

I looked around at the skyscrapers surrounding us as the interstate snaked through town. I supposed it was a pretty city. But then, when we crossed the bay, she said, “This bridge is really beautiful,” and when we turned onto the coastal highway, she said, “This town is really beautiful,” even though at that point we were passing a used car lot. I thought she was just glad to get away from Ricky.

“Oooh, boiled peanuts!” she exclaimed at a hand-lettered sign in front of a big boiler on the side of the road. “Stop stop stop! I haven’t had breakfast.”

Neither had I. Will might not have either, but it was all about Violet. He pulled the Mustang into a gas station parking lot and stopped. I climbed out of the car and pushed the seat forward to let Violet out. As she stood, she asked me, “Do you have three dollars?”

“Listen,” I told her. When we were little, my sisters had screamed bloody murder at me when I so much as touched something of theirs. I wanted them to love me, though, so I let them take anything of mine that they wanted—until I figured out what was going on. I had really gone off on Izzy one day. It had been a week before any of them spoke to me again, much less laughed at my jokes, but they did not take my stuff anymore.

“O-kay,” Violet said, digging in her own pocket for cash and stomping toward the guy ladling peanuts into plastic bags that looked, frankly, used.

I leaned against the car while she finished this important transaction. Will looked at me through the window. “You’re not dealing well with this.”

“Shut up,” I snapped. I knew I should regret that, because Will was helping me out and I was supposed to love him, but all I felt was fed up.

Violet skipped back to the car and ducked inside. As I slammed the door and Will pulled back onto the road, she tried to hand me a peanut still in its shell. “Want one?”

“Violet,” I said.

“Jeez!” She exclaimed. “Will Matthews, do y’all eat boiled peanuts in Russia?”

He laughed nervously. “No.”

And then, of course, she shelled the peanut and pressed the meat of the nut past his lips, into his mouth.

“Would you stop?” I whined, so annoyed by her manic mood swing. Any other day I might have thought she was halfway cute, but not while Will was there to see.

Will spit the nut into a napkin. “That is horrible! Nuts should not be mushy.”

Violet giggled and retreated quietly into the back.

After a pause, Will held his hand out toward her over the seat. “Give me another.”

He was so adorable. Handsome, strong, stoic. Vulnerable. Willing to laugh at himself at every turn. A wave of love washed over me, a yearning to touch him and talk to him alone, chased closely by blind panic that this was exactly how Violet had felt at first about Ricky.

“Ahhhhhh!” Violet yelled, teasing Will. “I knew it.” She shelled a peanut and put the meats in his palm.

They settled into a companionable silence. The car roared along the road. Alt-rock whispered on the radio. Violet cracked nuts and deposited some in Will’s hand whenever he held it out. Only I was fuming in my bucket seat, knowing now that I would have to break up with him as soon as we got home.

16

HE WAS SO SURPRISED AT my words that he stepped backward, crunching through the magnolia leaves in the driveway. To give himself time to think, he reached through the open window of his car, snagged his T-shirt, and pulled it on.

He recovered quickly after that, walking forward to tower over me again. “No,” he said. “You’re upset. It’s been a really stressful morning. Just have something to eat, a shower might be nice, go to work. I’ll come pick you up after your shift at the shop, and we’ll talk about it.”

“See?” I spat. “This is how it starts. You convince me of things. You get everything you want, and I forget what I wanted in the first place.”

I was serious, and he began to get it. His nostrils flared as he said, “So you’re breaking up with me after we’ve been together for . . .” He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “Nope, it hasn’t been quite twelve hours.”

“That’s a record for me,” I said, “because I’ve never been with anybody at all.”

“I don’t think this is funny!” He half turned away from me and ran his hands up the back of his neck, where his long hair used to be. “When you said on the first day of band practice that Beverly tricked me . . . no. You’re the one who did that. You wanted another hookup that didn’t mean anything. Maybe you even wanted to see this look on my face again. Do you get off on making me feel like an idiot?”

“Listen,” I seethed, then cringed at the volume of my voice. I would wake my dad over this stupid shit. Though my heart was racing, I managed to say calmly and reasonably, “I haven’t been the person that you wanted. I’ve sent you mixed signals. I’ve also changed my mind. But I’ve never lied to you. What I’ve said and done is exactly what I was feeling at the moment, and—”

“That’s enough,” he barked, putting his hand up to stop me. “I’m going to get in my car and drive away. You can’t change your mind after this. Don’t flirt with me. Don’t cry. Don’t stare at me and look jealous when I go out with somebody else. You’ve jerked me around enough, and now it’s over.”

“Fine.” I shrugged and headed for the house. Behind me I could hear the Mustang backing out of the driveway and roaring down the street. In front of me, my vision collapsed into a tunnel, dark all around and clear only at the center. I opened the front door.

As I stumbled inside, I heard Harper say Breathe inside my head. I inhaled a long noseful of stale air, a house full of dust.

I left the front door open.

Violet was in my room—our room—lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The manic mood that took over her when she was stressed was fading away now. She and I were opposites in that regard. She was normally more serious and got silly under pressure, whereas I was silly and got serious when everything went to hell, like now.

She looked up at me. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”