Chapter 11 #2
Hudson’s electric blue eyes peered down at me in such a way that the charge sprang from them to me. Warmth spread over my skin, starting in my cheeks and sliding down my throat, but whatever emotion it was tied to, it wasn’t embarrassment. Whatever it was, it caused my heart to beat faster.
Hudson then looked at my fist still wrapped around his sweatshirt and then back up at me, and I dropped it with a small gasp.
I took a jerky step away and instantly hit my head against the shelf in his locker, effectively shattering that weirdness between us.
“Ow,” I grumbled as I rubbed the spot. And then I looked up at him, giving him a pained smile. “I mean crap.”
Hudson tried to smother his laugh, but it came out as a snort. “Not to rain on your parade,” Hudson said, taking a step back to give me breathing room. Room I desperately needed. “But if we go to the movies, how are you proposing we get to the movie theater?”
“I was thinking about it,” I began, tightening my grip on my books. “And I wondered if you had any ideas.”
Asking Morgan’s mom to drive us had been a good enough excuse to give my parents, but there were too many flaws in that plan.
Would Morgan let the Grim Reaper ride in the backseat of her mom’s minivan?
Probably not. Would Mrs. Davies be okay with him riding in the backseat?
Probably not, and despite their feud, I could see her calling Mom to tell her.
Hudson considered, and I held my breath, ready for him to say no. The sort of buzzing feeling in me simmered, like someone had taken the anticipation of everything and turned it down low.
He pulled his cell from his pocket and unlocked it with a click, quickly scrolling down his contacts.
When he found the one he was looking for, he pressed his phone to his ear.
I could hear the faint ring from where I stood, and could hear when the ringing stopped.
“Derrick,” Hudson said in greeting, eyes flicking to me. “You busy?”
The faint murmur on the line was too low to pick up, and I suddenly felt rude for listening in.
I turned toward the inside of Hudson’s locker instead.
The interior was immaculate with the spines of his textbooks even and aligned perfectly.
His backpack, though worn, hung neatly from the hook inside.
There were two pencils on the top shelf sitting on top of a spiral-bound notebook, everything new and clean-looking.
“You up for a movie?” Hudson asked presumedly Derrick, reaching around me to grab his backpack off the hook. “I mean, sure, you can go see Super Sonic Racoons, but we’re seeing something else.”
There was no missing what Derrick said back. It was practically a shout. “We?”
Hudson cradled his phone between his ear and his shoulder, threading his arms through his backpack straps. After he waited for me to get out of the way, he kicked his locker door shut. “Get pants on and pick us up from the school.”
This time, it was my turn to snort.
After stopping by my locker to grab my bag, we waited inside the doors for Derrick to show, and knowing that Landon was officially out of the building took a bit of my edge off.
The buses would’ve left by now, which meant Jaden was gone too, and Morgan’s dad was usually waiting for her in the curb lineup by the time school got out.
Hudson leaned against the hallway corridor across from me, probably eight feet away. “So,” he began. “You want to check off watching a scary movie first, huh?”
“If that’s okay.”
“Stop that.”
I blinked at his flat tone and the suddenness of it. “Stop what?”
“‘If that’s okay.’” He tilted his head in that way of his, causing me to see a bit more of his expression as his hair fell away. “‘If you want to.’ If it’s something you want to do, be firm about it.”
Again, I blinked, thinking back on our past conversations with each other. My past conversations in general. “I didn’t realize I was doing that.”
We regarded each other for another moment, neither of us speaking.
It was different from the way that he and Principal Oliphant had their stare-downs.
It was different from even before between us.
There was something quiet to the stare, something that caused me to grow more and more comfortable rather than on edge.
“So,” he tried again. “You want to check off the scary movie from your list?”
This time, my voice was absolute. “Yes.”
Hudson glanced out the double doors before straightening. “Then let’s go.”
Once we were outside, it was clear to see which car had drawn Hudson’s attention.
A rough, scratched sedan pulled up in the opposite direction along the curb, with the driver’s side closest to the sidewalk.
There were several dents in the body work, a taillight with duct tape over it, and a black plastic piece replacing a section of the front metal bumper.
The guy in the driver’s seat had his arm hanging out of the window, cut-off T-shirt exposing his dark skin and all the muscles attached to that bicep.
His head was buzzed, leaving only a thin layer of spiky black hair.
He looked over once we stepped out of the school building, lowering his sunglasses, lips pulling into a wide smirk. “Hudson Bishop!”
Hudson didn’t falter in his steps, sauntering up to the car with a chuckle. “You didn’t take as long as I thought you would’ve.”
“Hey, I figured if you were calling in a favor, I should oblige in a timely fashion.” The guy’s gaze dipped past Hudson, and he lowered his sunglasses even further. “Especially if it’s for a lady.”
I clenched my backpack strap tighter.
“This is Derrick,” Hudson told me, gesturing toward the guy. “Good friend. He looks worse than he is. His car, though…it’s as bad as it looks.”
“Hey, don’t hate on Betsy,” Derrick replied, but with a smile. “She’s been in a few accidents, but she’s still kicking.” Then he tipped two fingers at me in a salute. “Nice to meet you…Gemma, right?”
It occurred to me that Hudson never mentioned my name on the phone call. Meaning that he must’ve told Derrick about me before. “With a G.”
“Well, Gemma with a G. Your chariot awaits.”
Hudson opened up the backseat door and stood behind it, gesturing me to climb in, but I still didn’t move forward.
He really expected me to get into a stranger’s car?
Was all his support about creating a rebellion list meant to lull me into a false sense of security or something?
Was I going to end up stuffed in a trunk a mile down the road?
Derrick didn’t seem scary, not with his easy smile and snorting laugh. The only thing about him that was scary was how badly his car was crunched, hinting at some not-so-stellar driving skills.
Seeing my hesitation—and no doubt guessing what dark turn my thoughts took—Hudson walked over to me, pulling something small and metallic out of his pocket.
“Don’t tell anyone I had this.” He deposited it into my palm.
“The button here pops the blade out, so, for the love of God, don’t cut yourself. ”
It took me several seconds to realize he’d given me a pocketknife. An actual pocketknife. It was an iridescent sort of purple, folded up and scrunched. As I flipped it again, I found two initials engraved into the purple. H.B.
“You really think I have it in me to stab you?” I demanded, jaw dropping a little.
“It’s supposed to make you feel safer.” Hudson rounded the open door and slid into the backseat. He turned toward me once he got settled into the middle, and with raised eyebrows, he patted the seat beside him. “You told me to trust you. Can’t you trust me, too, Gem?”
And then he lifted his pinky, calling back on our promise.
Gem. It became impossible to swallow. I wasn’t sure if it was the word or the way he said it, with the tilt to his lips that should’ve made me take a step back.
I didn’t, though, because the thrill had returned.
I was once more at the top of the rollercoaster, and if I took a step forward, I’d feel the drop.
The sensation swelled behind my ribcage, building the longer our gazes were connected, promising an exciting ride.
Trust Hudson Bishop. I never would’ve before, but I wanted to now.
I picked up the hem of my skirt and climbed into the backseat, clutching my backpack to my chest like a shield.
Or an extra airbag, since the car looked old enough that it might not have had any.
Hudson reached across me and tugged the door shut, the back of his blond head right in front of mine, and it was the first time I could smell the citrusy scent of his shampoo.
“I feel like one of those rich people drivers,” Derrick mused, pushing his sunglasses up on his nose, adjusting in his seat until he sat straight up. “All I need is one of those cool hats.”
“He’s a little off his rocker,” Hudson whispered, tipping his head ever so slightly toward the driver’s seat. “But he’s the only one of my friends who has a car.”
“Ah, it’s nice to be used,” Derrick mused while tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “I guess if I have to be used for anything, this isn’t too bad.”
“Drive responsibly,” Hudson told Derrick. “Seriously.”
“Precious cargo,” Derrick replied, and in the rearview mirror, he slid his glasses back down to give me a wink.
Hudson hadn’t moved from the middle seat, so his shoulder was flush against mine. When Derrick pulled out of the school lot, taking a sharp left, my body leaned against his ever so slightly. I should’ve pulled away, should’ve pressed myself to the door to avoid touching him, but I didn’t move.