“Six.”
“Seriously?” I want to ask if it bothers her, but she’s grinning, so that would be a no.
“Yep. But this thing’s fun to drive. I kick it up to the highest setting and it gets pretty close to thirty miles an hour.” I have no idea if that’s fast, and I guess she can tell. “Normal ones do fifteen.”
I wave to my aunt as we pull away. Lila is careful to take back roads as we leave the subdivision and head out into the country. A few cars honk at us as they pass, but since the drivers are smiling and waving, it doesn’t seem like a big deal. The cops might be less amused, but the farther we get from town, the less likely it is anyone will bother us. Since the golf cart is open, it’s cold as hell, but worth it when the alternative is riding in a car. It takes about half an hour to get to the Barn, and by that time, it’s pretty late. There’s a fire crackling away, sending orange sparks up toward the dark sky. I’m glad to see it, as I wish I’d worn a scarf and gloves. Beyond, there are a bunch of cars parked in the field. Lila picks a spot where she’s not likely to be blocked in. Somebody must be in charge of the music because it’s blasting from one of the trucks.
“This is it,” she says. “Impressive enough for you?”
“I guess.” I hop out of the golf cart, ready to be amazed.
“Let me give you the grand tour. Here, we have the social types.” Lila gestures.
The ones she indicates are clustered around the fire while others run around. By the stumbling, it seems like they’re already pretty wasted. I follow Lila across the uneven ground, glad I opted for boots instead of Chucks. She points at the drunken game of tag.
“Those are the hard-core drinkers. They were probably toasted before they got here.”
“Note to self—avoid the pro drinkers to keep them from hurling on me.”
Lila grins at me. “In some cases, you’ll have to be quick. That guy’s kind of a ninja barfer.”
“Why, God, why?” I mumble.
“Hey, you wanted to come.”
I answer her smile with a smirk. “I feel like Jane Goodall, studying apes in the wild.”
“Take good notes. Maybe you can publish your findings later.” She continues by pointing at the open barn doors. “Inside, you’ll find couples doing things they should reserve for seedy hotel rooms and the backseats of cars. Beware the hayloft.”
“Do you know how scratchy hay actually is?”
“Not firsthand. But I’m not the kind to put out in a barn, regardless of what Dylan says.”
I touch her shoulder lightly. “He’s an asshole. Let’s go see who’s here.”
She ignores the kegs and the coolers full of beer. Luckily I spot some Cokes mixed in with the Budweiser and grab two of them for us. I’d prefer hot chocolate or tea, but this is strictly low-rent. A few people have brought bags of marshmallows and packs of hot dogs. I take the former from a guy who might be in my chemistry class. Because I have nothing better to do, I focus on toasting my marshmallow to the perfect shade of light brown. This feat requires absolute patience.
I’m about to eat the perfect marshmallow when Dylan Smith says, “Wow. I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up here, Lila.”
In the flickering firelight, her face is pale and tense. Given how much he hates her for breaking up with him, there’s no way this doesn’t get ugly.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“You need to leave her alone,” I say quietly.
Dylan doesn’t even notice when I join them; he’s too focused on Lila to see anything else. She wasn’t kidding when she said he was abnormal about their breakup. It’s like he can’t accept that anyone would leave him. I’m unsure if that makes him conceited or insane.