Chapter 30
Thirty
CHLOE
Islide my debit card into the machine and follow the on-screen prompts. It’s closing time, but I hope I’m not too late. Working my mom’s events—and being grounded—is cramping my social life. I’m actually only here because I offered to wash her car, and she was on a post-event high.
Sure, I’m a bit of a suck-up, but she doesn’t know I have ulterior motives.
The side-door opens and out walks the attendant. My stomach sinks. It’s Farrah. Her dark brown curls are piled on top of her head. I roll down my window.
“Any chance Rhoads is still here?” I ask.
Farrah scrunches her face, indecision written all over her.
“Look, I know he’s mad at me. I’m trying to make amends.” I hold up the Sugar & Spice takeout bag. “Please?”
Farrah opens her mouth, but Rhoads comes out the door and speaks first.
“We’re closing up,” he says. Then he notices me leaning out my window. “Baker?”
“I come bearing sweet treats. Pretty please let me go through?”
He runs his hands through his hair. “Alright. Fine.” He turns to Farrah. “Can you run the board?”
“Yeah, okay. But you owe me one.” She heads back in and stands at the entrance to the car wash, directing me forward.
Rhoads opens my passenger door and slides in, clicking on the seatbelt.
Once I’ve got the car in neutral, I turn to him. “I’m really sorry about what I said.” I shake my head. “I had no business telling you that people think any certain way about you. And I certainly shouldn’t have sounded so judgy about it. It’s none of my, or anyone else’s, business.”
The car lurches forward, pulled by the machine. Pink and blue and yellow soap drizzles onto the windshield. The tentacles smear them like watercolors on a canvas.
“I brought apology muffins.” I hand him the bag. He stares at me for a long moment before taking it and unrolling the top.
By now, we’re far enough into the car wash that it’s too loud to talk. Rhoads breathes in over the bag. His facial muscles relax, and his eyes sparkle. My stomach does a weird flip.
He removes an apple cinnamon muffin and takes a giant bite. His eyes spring wide open. His sharp jaw works faster, like he can’t quite chew quickly enough.
We’re to the rinse stage now. Sheets of water rain down.
I start to say something, but Rhoads presses his forefinger to my lips. “Shhh.”
My lips tingle. I resist the urge to purse them. He doesn’t pull his hand away for many seconds, his eyes locked on mine. My lungs are overfilled, stretched to capacity with my held breath.
A loud grinding sound breaks the moment. The car stalls in the middle of the track.
I glance at him. “Is it supposed to do that?”
Rhoads’s smile falters. “Umm. No, actually. It’s not supposed to do that. Umm. Hang on.” He puts the half-eaten muffin back in the paper sack and reaches for the door handle.
“Wait. If you go out there, you’re going to get drenched.”
Rhoads shrugs. “Good thing I’m not afraid of water, then.
” He pops open his door and steps out, bending down to inspect the tires.
“Wheel’s stuck,” he yells to me. Water streams down his face, so he has to squint.
But that somehow makes him even more attractive.
He kicks the tire a few times, but the car doesn’t budge.
“Farrah?” he calls.
Traces of panic cut through his relaxed demeanor. I unlock my door.
He gestures for me to stay put. “No, stay there, it’s fine. I just have to—”
Ignoring him, I get out of the car and shut the door behind me. Icy water rains down the back of my neck. “Holy whoa that’s freezing cold.”
“—hit the emergency shut-off,” Rhoads finishes. He slams his hand against the red button on the wall by the office. The machines grind to a halt. The water ceases. Colored bubbles float up and around us, reminiscent of another car wash we shared.
“You okay?” he asks. He shakes the water from his hair. “Apparently Farrah left already. I think I no longer ‘owe her’ one.”
I nod and wrap my arms around myself, shivering.
He closes the distance between us. “Your lips are turning blue.” His hand rests on my chin, tilting my face ever so slightly upward.
“So are yours.” I touch his cheek.
His hand moves to my hair, squeezing water from my ruined bun. I forget all about the cold. We should not be this close. Not after everything I said about his reputation. I shouldn’t have said it out loud, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true.
I breathe in, shallow and sharp. His eyes lock on mine.
But then the warm expression in them cools. He steps back. Immediately, my body aches for the warmth of his.
My eyes search his face as my lungs deflate. It’s not fair of me to feel rejected when I keep pushing him away.
“I’m going to go figure out how to get your mom’s car unstuck. No need to give her another reason to hate me.”
He tosses me a large towel from inside, then disappears into the office. He comes back a minute later. “It should be good now. Just needed a reset.”
“Right. So…”
“You can hop back in, and I’ll restart it. Should have you out of here in a minute.” He hands me another towel, taking the wet one from me. “To keep the seat dry. I’ll get it from you at school.”
I take it, albeit reluctantly. “Okay. Yeah, sure.” I grab the Sugar & Spice bag and hand it to him before climbing in the car.
As soon as I’m buckled, he goes back into the office, and the car wash starts. I blast the heat to try to dry myself off and chase away the chill of disappointment.
Water rains down on the windshield again as the car moves, but I can’t tell if that’s why my vision is blurry or if it’s the tears rolling down my face.
* * *
My double chocolate milkshake melts in its glass in front of me. I scoop whipped cream onto the end of my straw and lick it off. A peppy song plays over the speakers, barely audible over the chatter of students filling the diner.
“For someone who just won a get-out-of-grounding free card, you’re sulking quite a lot. I think your salt and sugar are disproportionate. Here.” Anita shoves a plate of shoestring fries toward me.
I grab a few and dunk them in my shake. Chewing, I say, “Thanks.”
“So, what is with you?” Charlotte asks, sipping her strawberry shake across the table. Her eyes flit up now and then to a place behind me, but I can’t summon the energy to care who she’s looking at. “Aren’t you happy?”
As Maggie guessed, my mom let me off early for good behavior. I think the clean car may have been what pushed me over the finish line. She couldn’t stop talking about how it looked cleaner than usual. Guess that extra rinse cycle made a difference.
“Of course. I missed having a social life. I’m just…”
“Distracted?” Anita sips her cookies and creme shake. “Speaking of Hotty McStriker, what’s happening with that?”
I raise my eyes just barely and catch Rhoads’s gaze. We smile at each other, but it feels forced, like there’s an invisible wall between us.
“I think I screwed everything up.” I chomp more fries, a bit angrily. It feels good to smoosh something. When I don’t have a soccer ball to abuse, diner food is the next best thing.
Charlotte gives me a pointed look. “Are you ready to admit we’ve been right this whole time?”
I look away, but my friends can read me easier than a picture book.
“The question isn’t what you’ve done to break it,” Anita says. “It’s what are you going to do to fix it?”