“You...you shouldn’t have followed me,” I said after a moment.
“Why not?” he asked as if he genuinely had no idea.
“Paige, for one.”
“She understands.”
I seriously doubted that, because if I were in her shoes, I wouldn’t understand. Not in a million years. “Then...you shouldn’t have followed me because...I’m not your problem anymore.”
He lifted his chin, his shoulders heaving on a lengthy sigh. “I want to show you something.”
I frowned.
He extended his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Can I see your car keys?”
My frown increased. Was he going to leave the school? There was still at least thirty minutes left, and...and wait a second. I so doubted he cared about leaving early and it wasn’t like I was going to head back inside.
“I have a license,” he continued when I didn’t respond. “I swear. I know how to drive. I’m not going to steal your car or anything.”
My brows flew up. “I...I didn’t think you’d do that.”
Rider cocked his head to the side. Did he really think I believed that about him? Swooping down, I picked up my bag and dug my keys out then handed them over. His long fingers closed around them. Without saying a word, I walked around to the passenger side and got into the car, tossing my bag into the backseat.
He followed, his long body cramped behind the wheel. With a sheepish grin, he reached down and hit the lever on the seat, adjusting it. He turned the key in the ignition and then backed out. He glanced at me as he eased the Honda between the rows of cars, but didn’t say anything.
My hands were curled into tight balls and my thoughts were rushing through my head with the speed of hurricane-force winds. Leaving school like this was crazy for a whole multitude of reasons. Just like when he showed up at my house last night, if Carl and Rosa found out about this, they’d flip out.
But right now none of that mattered.
How could I even show my face Monday? I leaned back against the seat, knuckles aching. I slowly forced my hands open.
Staring out the window, I had no idea where Rider was heading at first, but quickly, traffic clogged the roads and I recognized that we were heading out of the city, using one of the older roads that was still congested.
“Will you get in trouble if you don’t come home immediately after school?” he asked.
Well, if Rosa and Carl knew what I was doing and where I was, that would be a big hell yes, but they wouldn’t know. “They won’t be home for a while.”
“Cool.” When I peeked at him, I found him focused on the road. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
Reaching back, I scooped up my hair and started twisting it into a thick rope. “Why would you get me in trouble?”
He shot me a bland look I didn’t understand. A moment passed. His gaze flipped back to the road. “Do they know—the people who took you in—that we’ve run into each other?”
I nodded. “I told them.”
His brows rose, and I thought he looked surprised again. “And they know about me? From before?”
I started to nod, but forced myself to talk. “They know.”
“Everything?” he asked.
“Most of everything,” I whispered.
He nodded slowly. “What did they think of me and you being together?” Pink swept across his cheeks. “I mean, that we’re at the same school?”
Part of me thought that was a strange question for him to ask, but then I figured out where he was heading with it. He thought that the reason why Rosa and Carl wouldn’t be happy to know he was back had to do with who he was, but he would be wrong. It was what he represented.
At least, I hoped that was it.
“They...are just worried about me...fitting in,” I told him, and that was true. “About whether I can handle it, which...obviously I can’t.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw, but before I could say anything, he announced, “My name is Rider Stark.”
Um.
“I like working with my hands,” he continued as he slowed down, hitting the brakes at a stoplight. “And I don’t like classrooms.” He glanced at me, lashes lowered. “Maybe saying I didn’t like classrooms would be a bad choice, but I could say something like I don’t like bananas.”
“Bananas?”
He nodded with a small grin. “I discovered about three years ago that I absolutely hate those damn things.”
“But they’re just bananas.”
“They’re the fruit of the devil.”
A surprised laugh burst out of me. “That’s ridiculous.”
The half grin spread and the dimple appeared. “It’s the truth. Now it’s your turn.”
I knew what he was doing. Trying to prove that what had been asked in speech class was something that I could do, but obviously that wasn’t the case. What was the point in doing this now? It wasn’t the same.