He stood, the look on his face telling me that he was finally beginning to comprehend how badly he'd messed up. My last sentence had clued him in. "Don't. Scarlett, stop. I'll cancel, okay? Let's go to Gram's. I'm not leaving you here."
I raised my chin. "You are. Go. I'll meet you and Tiffany at the movies."
He started cursing, and I left him to it, locking myself in my room.
"How will you even get there?" he eventually asked me, voice muffled through the thin wall that separated us. He'd been standing there for a while. I pictured him clearly on the other side of it, eyes closed, leaning forehead first into the door.
I hated that question, hated that I didn't even have a way to get around, that I was so dependent on him, and had never even given it a thought until now, because we did everything together.
"Like I said, you don't need to worry about me," I told him with stilted bitterness. "I can figure out how to get to the movie theater without your help, Dante."
I just hadn't done it quite yet. I'd gotten my license, but I sure as hell didn't have a car. Could I borrow my grandma's and have it back before she woke up? I wondered.
She'd kill me, I decided instantly. She was absolutely possessive about her junker of a car. She'd only ever let me be a passenger in it maybe five times, let alone drive it myself. The thought was laughable.
Still, I wasn't backing down. I was too far gone. My temper was officially running the show.
Dante made a noise of utter frustration. "You know what? Fine. I'll be back to pick you up at one."
I wanted to punch the door. My fists were clenched in preparation for it. "Don't. I won't even be here by then. Like I said, I'll meet you there." My mouth was working independently of my brain, it seemed. I felt separate from the words, like they had more meaning for him than me.
This made sense, I supposed, because half of what I was saying was for effect alone. I really had no way to make it the thirty-minute drive to the movie theatre.
Eventually he left, and though I'd told him too, that did not help my temper at all.
It got worse the more I tried to calm it. Simmered hotter the more I tried to turn it off.
It was unfortunate that Reese McCoy just happened to call my house right when I'd nearly talked myself out of going at all.
Reese had been persistently pestering me for at least a year. I'd never encouraged him in any way whatsoever, but I knew he had a crush on me. He was a nuisance, but at least he was nice to me, which was more than I could say for most people.
"I told you not to call me again," I told him right away. It came out naturally. "I'll tell Dante that you're bothering me if you don't stop." I'd told him this at least a dozen times, but I'd yet to actually follow through. Dante would pulverize him, and I didn't truly believe that he was anything but harmless.
But then Reese, in his timid voice, said, "I just wanted to see if you wanted to go out, or whatever. We could, like, go to the mall, or whatever."
It was ridiculous of him to ask, but no one could fault his timing. On any other day, I'd have skewered him for asking.
But today, well, I really needed a ride. "Do you have a car?" I asked him.
I swear I felt him smile through the phone.
"Do you know Tiffany Vanderkamp?" I asked Reese when he picked me up in his old Toyota truck.
"That rich, new girl? Yeah, I've seen her. Doesn't she live close to here?"
Too close, I thought. "She does. Do you like her?"
He was driving by then, but he looked away from the road to shoot me a guarded look. "She's alright. Why?"
"She's going to be at the movies. Maybe you could take her out afterwards."
He chewed on his lip for a long while, finally getting up the courage to say, "I'd rather take you out afterwards."
I rolled my eyes. "You know I'm with Dante."
"Not right now you aren't. Right now you're in my truck, if you didn't notice."
That shut me up. I'd just gotten into a car with a guy I barely knew just to piss off Dante. I was helpless, and I'd done it to myself. The thought was sobering.
Luckily Reese didn't pull anything, taking me straight to the movies, like I'd asked, unaware that I was bringing him on a double date whether he liked it or not.
Or a trap, depending on how you looked at it.
But I wouldn't be letting him drive me home. Something in his tone had me worried. He was definitely less of a pushover than I'd always assumed.
Dante's reaction was predictably gratifying when I walked in the door with Reese.
He wouldn't even look at me. His cold eyes were on Reese. "Let's take this outside."
Tiffany, who'd been standing next to him, watched the guys leave, looking troubled.
"I tried to bring you a date," I told her. "I guess it didn't work out."
She studied me. "I don't mind being a third wheel."
I smiled at her and it was smug. One thing I could guarantee; Dante would stop setting her up to be my 'friend' now. "I mind. One thing I also mind is you watching us having sex. Do you even know how sad and pathetic that is? How desperate?"