The week didn’t improve.
John and I still weren’t speaking, ignoring each other throughout Thursday’s English class. It sucked. I missed him. But he was wrong to say I should just put up with being insulted. For years, I’d let Kara push me around and she hadn’t lost interest or moved on to tormenting some other poor sap. She also hadn’t experienced any inner awakening leading to her deciding not to be a complete and utter bitch. Things had only escalated. I wanted to explain all of this to him, except pride got in the way.
How dare he blame me?
My foot pressed harder on the gas pedal, the hatchback flying down the empty back roads. Window open, wind tangling my hair, and The Kooks screaming about having a bad habit. This was good. John had been right about the therapeutic value of driving late at night. If I went fast enough, I could outrace all of the bad memories and terrifying dreams. Leave them far behind in the darkness.
A noise like a gunshot shattered the night as a tire blew. Swerving wildly, the car screeched and shuddered. I braked hard, my head whipping forward, body slamming into the seat belt.
Holy shit.
Carefully, carefully, I steered the hatchback over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. All I could hear was the hammering of my heart. My hands shook, still holding on tight to the wheel. Not dead, just really shaken. Okay.
One at a time, I pried my fingers loose of their death grip. It wasn’t easy. Driver’s-side door open, I stepped out, knees knocking only a little. Everything was fine. No need for anyone to lose their shit.
The smell of burnt rubber filled the air. Only ragged strips of tire remained on the rear wheel. It could have been worse. Still, I swore up a storm, then popped the hatch, pulling out the jack and spare wheel. Mom and I had practiced for just such an occasion. The first three nuts came off fine, but the fourth one . . . I pulled and I strained and I called it every vile name ever invented, along with a few new ones even Shakespeare might have appreciated.
Nothing worked.
Over and over, the boom of the tire blowing echoed through my head. Not a gunshot. I needed to pull myself together. Except strange noises came from out in the dark, beyond the limits of where the lights could reach. The scuffle of a foot sliding over gravel, the mumbling of voices. Tonight, nature most definitely wasn’t my friend.
“Stop it,” I whispered. “It’s just your imagination. There’s no one out there.”
Chris stepping out of the blackness, walking toward me with a gun in hand. That smile. That creepy, crazy, murderous smile.
“You’re just freaking yourself out, you idiot,” I muttered.
Mom would still be at work. Never mind what she’d say if she knew I’d been out cruising at one in the morning. Hang would come to my rescue. If I couldn’t get the damn tire off, though, then neither of them stood a chance of doing it, either. I held the cell phone to my ear.
“Edie?” he asked, voice husky from sleep.
I took a deep breath. “John.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The, uh, one of my tires blew. I tried to change it myself, but—”
“Where are you?” There were rustling noises in the background, the jangling of keys.
“Bell Road. A couple of miles along.”
“Get in the car and lock the doors,” he ordered. “I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
I let down the jack and did as told, sitting in the dark, cell held tight in my shaking, sweaty hands. Deep, calm breaths and nice thoughts. I closed my eyes, concentrating on good things. Kittens and cake and books and shit. Happy things. At least I’d gotten semi-dressed in black yoga pants and a tank top, a pair of flip-flops on my feet.
Years passed. Or at least twenty-three minutes. Someone tapped on the window and I shrieked. John. I flipped the lock and slowly climbed out of the car.
“You all right?” he asked, face set.
I nodded. “Thanks for coming.”
“What were you doing out here?”
“You were right,” I said. “About driving at night. It helps.”
He nodded.
“Here, hold the light.” He pressed it into my hands and dropped down onto one knee beside the busted wheel. Evilest tire in all of creation. Of course, for him the nut came off on his first try with ease. Bastard of a thing.
“I must have loosened it for you,” I said, the tips of my ears burning with embarrassment.
He just grunted.
“I do know how to change a tire. It was just, you know, the nut.”
A nod.
John had the car roadworthy again in about two minutes. God, for him it’d all been so simple. The boy probably thought I’d lured him out here under false pretenses. Because I wanted his attention or something stupid.
“You okay to drive?” he asked.
I hid my shaking hands behind my back. “Absolutely.”
“I’ll follow you back to your place,” he said. “Make sure you get there okay.”
“Thank you.”
Back at home, I don’t know what I expected. A wave of the hand, a chin tip maybe. But he parked his car and got out, moseying on over to where I stood.
“Your mom home?” he asked.
“No. She doesn’t finish until four.”
I’d left on the light in the front hall and the bedside lamp in my bedroom. Walking into a totally dark house had a tendency to freak me out these days. Meanwhile, my stupid hands were still trembling. The noise the tire made when it blew had been shocking, true. But that had been nearly an hour ago. I shook them hard, trying to dislodge the fear, to get the tremor to ease.
When I looked up, John stood silently watching. “I can stay for a while if you want.”
“No,” I said, guilt making me refuse. “Really, you should go home, get some sleep. I’m going to as well.”
He just looked at me.
“Thank you for rescuing me. I would have been in real trouble if you hadn’t come.”
A brief smile flitted across his lips. “No problem.”
I smiled back at him, took a deep breath, and raised my hand in farewell. “Good night.”
“’Night.”
“Or morning.”
“Right.”
The curve of his lips could have kept me occupied for hours. Wings stirred in my belly, both scary and thrilling at the same time. Friends again or not, liking John in a more-than-that way was dumb. Insane even. Still, just to be sure where we stood, I wanted to ask if the fight had been archived, forgotten. Except just bringing it up again seemed risky during this time of peace. Maybe I should, though. Clear the air and all that.
“Edie,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m waiting for you to go inside.”
“Oh. Right.”
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?”
More than I could say, and for reasons less than pure. “Oh, no. I, um . . .”
“I don’t mind.”
“No, no. I’m fine. Really. Thanks.” I rushed to the front door, unlocking it with all due haste. “’Bye.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow at school.” He took a step backward, watching me all the while. Then he turned, heading straight for his car.
“Today at school,” I called out.
He laughed. “Whatever.”
Such was the magic of John Cole, I even managed to get to sleep. Bet I still had the stupid smile on my face, too.