Chapter 14 #2
Resting my right hand on the gearshift, the left controlling the steering wheel, I relax into the rest of my drive.
Nadia’s memory sits next to me in the passenger seat, where she belongs, and teases me with faint whiffs of her body spray.
All of it, the road, the sky, her phantom, drapes me with a warm sort of comfort and ease as if she’s reaching through space and time to slide her hand to brace and squeeze my shoulder.
Warmth blooming at where I picture her touch.
It’s simple and platonic, contrasting every other thought I have about her, but it works—it feels good.
Before I know it, it’s traveling through my chest and coiling around my heart, creeping up to my mind where I need nothing but her.
“One last curve, baby. Let’s get through it and get out of here.”
Whitesnake is carrying the both of us now, the upbeat tune causing me to press harder on the gas pedal. I can’t end this ride without one more adrenaline pumping drift.
“Keep on pushing, babe. Like I’ve never known before. You know you drive me crazy—take me down slow and easyyyy.” David Coverdale sings, right as I hit the turn.
Grabbing the e-brake, I give it a slight yank, and let off the gas.
Delinquent soars through the turn perfectly.
We’re almost out when the gravel shifts and catches the front passenger tire—jerking the car and ripping us out of sync.
Releasing the brake, I grab the wheel and correct the turn, muscles in my biceps burn the harder I pull it to the left.
Sending my stomach into my throat and my pulse through the roof.
The car squirrels around some, overcorrecting to the left. Pulling the wheel to the right, the biggest fucking mistake of my life happens when I push on the brake. Delinquent jerks straight but it’s too late, another rock-covered groove snags the wheel and all control is lost.
The moon darkens, shadows swallowing both me and the car in an unforgiving gulp a split second before the crunch of metal deafens my left and shattering glass cuts me with hundreds of tiny shards.
Everything goes quiet when a beautifully broken pair of tear-filled silver eyes splinter my heart in two, with a haunting rattle clinging to one more silent word.
Nadia.
“What’s your name, Diabolica?”
She scowls, hands instantly finding and shoving at my chest—her enthusiasm barely ruffling the buttery-leather of my worn-out jacket. When I don’t release her, the coaches scraping her victim off the floor to our left, she softens. Inhaling the longest calming breath I’ve ever seen.
“Nadia.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kaleb Reyes.”
With a mind of its own, my right thumb brushes her cheek. She sure is pretty.
“I know.”
Those two words are all it takes for the whole world to fall away—she knows me.
Internally, I kick myself in the ass for not having noticed her before.
Perhaps it’s the unflattering clothing she wears, or how she doesn’t belong to the same scene as other girls do; at least those that vie for male attention.
Maybe she just doesn’t care to stick out, other than when her fist fights draw attention from the whole damn cafeteria.
“I’ve seen you around school a couple times. I don’t think we’ve ever had any electives together.” I lie, hoping to dig and encourage her to share a bit more.
My hold falls and my hands go ice-cold when she pulls away—no longer there to keep them warm.
“We haven’t had any.”
“No? Hmm, we must have friends in common. That means, by proxy, we’re friends now.”
“Hardly.”
A full playful smile blooms on my face at her retort.
This girl, she’s something else. Any other time they’re fawning over me, fighting against the grain to maintain my attention, but not her.
Noooo, not this walking billboard of trust issues and a bad attitude.
She’s practically blowing me off as I stand here, and I sure as hell can’t have that.
Nadia goes to step away, the student body splitting like something out of the Bible as more teachers arrive, but I move quickly to block her escape.
“I like the sound of that. We’re hardly friends—we’re besties now.”
“Over my dead body,” she nearly growls.
“I prefer you alive and trying to scratch my eyes out.”
“Oh man, you know what, you’re right. I exist solely because you wish me alive.”
Good god she’s quick. Stubborn as an ox but that’s okay, it keeps me on my toes and I do love a challenge.
“Go with me to the game tonight.”
“Are you asking me, or telling me?” She turns to me, a little dumbfounded at my sudden advance.
“Telling.” My teeth capture my bottom lip as I smirk down at her. I can’t help but note how gorgeous her eyes are when she tilts her head back to stare—no glare—at me with an arched brow.
“Aren’t you playing?”
“Mm, yeah, but I can make time to come see you in the stands.”
Nadia steps closer, our bodies nearly touch as she reaches out and fumbles the zipper pulley on my jacket—my breath hitches. She’s silent for two, four, five seconds before hitting me in the pride with her vicious mouth.
“No thanks, football is boring. All you do is wear spandex and touch each other’s ass.”
Huffing at her, a wedge of cafeteria air forms a buffer between her, and if I’m not mistaken, a little annoyance.
“Now wait a damn minute.”
“Pierce, my office. Now!” Mr. Trenton orders from the hallway leading to his dungeon, his hands resting on his hips as he looks at her disapprovingly.
“See you later—bestie.” She teases, then kills me with a playful wink.