Maybe I should attempt some self-love when I got home. The feeling building inside of me, this hyperawareness of him physically, mentally, and generally every way, had me growing increasingly agitated. Edgy. I don’t know what.

“You okay?” he asked, frowning.

“Yes. Why?”

“Just had a weird look on your face.”

Shit. “Ah, I was thinking about homework.”

He tipped his chin. “How you doing with school?”

“Fine. Good. And you?”

A nod.

“Is your arm still hurting?” I nodded at the bandage.

“Came off my board the other week and opened it up again. It’s fine though.”

“Ouch.” I flinched. “So, I take it Anders is one of the friends you kept when you stopped dealing?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s different,” I said.

“That’s one way to put it.” John sort of smiled. “He doesn’t care if I can score shit for him or not. A lot of the others, that’s all they really wanted.”

“Idiots.” I scowled, angry on his behalf.

A shrug. “You settling in at school okay?”

“Sure. Everything’s fine.”

“Good,” he said. “Thanks for giving him a lift out here. He would have blown up my phone otherwise.”

“No worries.”

Awkward silence.

“Anders was rattling on about some party on Friday night,” I said, fiddling with the end of my braid. “Were you going?”

“Dunno. Haven’t really thought about it yet.”

I jingled my keys. “Some girl called Sabrina left a note on my car about it. Guess she’s probably trying to sweet-talk you through me, like you warned about.”

Brows knitted, he pushed back his hair. “Bree’s not so bad. You should go if you want. Might be fun.”

Bree, not Sabrina. Hmm. “This is me.”

Without comment, he looked over my sedate white hatchback. Unlike his beast of a vehicle, it wouldn’t be causing fear on the streets anytime soon. My car unlocked with a beep.

“See you at school,” I said, getting behind the wheel.

“Yeah.” He leaned in, resting an elbow on the open driver’s-side door. “You gonna be okay with the gun lobby and everything?”

I winced, slipping sunglasses over my eyes—all the better to hide. “People have been calling me Holden.”

“You were pretty spectacular.”

“Ha, well,” I drawled, going heavy on the sarcasm. “I live to impress. Who even wants to be boring and fit in when you can act like a complete head case in front of the entire class, right?”

“They’ll forget about it.” Pushing my door shut, he gave me a sly smile. “Eventually.”

“Great.”

“Seriously, don’t worry,” he said. “By this time tomorrow Anders will have done something so stupid no one will even look at you twice.”

“Promise?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I can pay him if I have to.”

I laughed and he grinned, everything nice and friendly and infinitely better. This was what my days needed, more John Cole. (Insert happy sigh here.) Just as well my sunglasses hid the dreamy look in my eyes.

He gazed down at me, the tempting curl of his lips easing slowly. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Neither of us said a word. It seemed like forever before he looked away, rapping his knuckles once on the roof of my car.

“Later,” he said.

“Wait,” I blurted, grabbing his arm. Oh his sun-warmed skin, it felt so very good. I instantly ordered my hand to let go. “Give me your phone. Let me give you my number. Just in case sometime in the future you feel like doing the dreaded talking thing.”

His face set in stubborn lines.

“I get it. Really. You don’t want to talk about the Drop Stop, you just want to put it behind you,” I said, stomach turning queasily at the mere mention of the place. “But you know what, I get it. We were both there. Sometime, speaking about it might help. Who knows?”

For a long time, he just looked at me.

“This isn’t some pathetic attempt to get your number, by the way.”

He snorted. “I know that.”

“Well?”

Another long look. “I don’t have my cell on me. Give me yours.”

Moving much faster than I’d have ever thought possible, I grabbed it out of my schoolbag, unlocked it, and shoved it at him. He carefully wiped off his hand on his pants leg before putting in the info. Then he handed it back. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” I tried to keep my smile within acceptable non-triumphant limits. And failed.

“’Bye.”

“R-right.” I could have drifted in his dreamy gaze for days. Instead, I blinked, returning to reality. “’Bye.”

He took a step back, watching me not so carefully reverse. For a very specific reason, it was hard to concentrate. My line of sight kept returning to him, and it took a concerted effort to keep my eyes on the road.

God, the way my heart kept bashing around inside my chest. It couldn’t be good. Best if I went back to my room and tried to read a book, maybe listened to some music. Find my inner calm if it even existed these days.

Dust filled the air, stirred up by my tires. I watched him in the rearview mirror until he disappeared.

In all likelihood, he’d been looking at me counting his lucky stars yet again that the gun at the Drop Stop had been empty by the time I grabbed it. Or maybe he was just curious about me, the way I was about him. We had been through some crazy shit together. Still, stupid of me to become so angsty over someone so hot. Everything about the Drop Stop needed to get out of my head, and that included John. All we had in common was a night of blood and violence. End of story. Sanity decreed we should never want to cross paths again even despite the rules of high school hierarchy. The cool, the beautiful, and me didn’t mix. Egos and bullshit always got in the way. I had to forget about him before I got my delicate little feelings hurt.

No way would I go to Sabrina’s soiree. If Anders hadn’t gone on at me about it, the stupid thing wouldn’t have even crossed my mind. All of those people standing around getting loaded, judging each other’s taste in everything, while gossiping about who might be hooking up with whom.