“Happy to oblige, m’lady,” he says.
I settle in and fumble for my seat belt. Journey is so quiet that I’m hit with a sudden pang of concern. I look up and find him staring at me.
“What’s wrong?” The air between us fills with dread.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he replies.
“I’m fine.…”
His expression doesn’t change. If anything, he looks even more serious.
He leans toward me, sliding his hand over the back of my seat and up into my hair. He buries his fingers in the strands. As he closes the space between us, a warm flush spreads over my body. His breath tickles my cheek. I try to focus on where I should put my hands.
I tilt my head forward, allowing strands of my hair to mingle with his. My eyes flutter closed as his lips crush against mine. I hold perfectly still, hoping time will do the same.
Finally, even though I’m not ready, he breaks the spell and pulls away.
We don’t go far, staying face-to-face, a few inches apart, our breathing matched and ragged. His eyes are soft and full of questions. My lips tingle with the memory of his.
“You weren’t online last night,” he whispers. “And you didn’t reply to any of my Snapchats. I was worried.”
My phone? I pat my pockets. It’s still on the charger. “Hold on. Don’t move.” I leap out of the van and race back into the house, up the stairs. I grab my phone off the charger, then I stop and check my reflection in the mirror. My face is splotchy and dotted with beads of sweat. But it doesn’t matter, Journey Michaels just kissed that face.
I race back down the stairs and throw myself into the van.
Journey offers a hand to help me in. “So what happened?”
“Last night? Rachel and I kind of got into it, so I went to sleep early. That’s all.”
“About me?”
“No. This was some other weird family drama. Sorry you were worried.”
He puts the van into gear and we rumble off toward school. “But everything’s okay, right?” He glances sideways at me.
I nod, tipping my head slightly right and left. Should I tell him my suspicions about Chief Culson? Rachel says she was with him. And she has no reason to lie. Which probably means I’m wrong. But still … questions about the chief nag at me.
“What do you know about Chief Culson?” I ask.
“Only that he’s a giant a-hole,” Journey replies, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.
“Really?”
“He was involved in my father’s case. He wasn’t chief then, but my mother said he never cared about the evidence, only the results. Why, what are you thinking?”
“I don’t want to say just yet. But I have a feeling about him.”
Journey pulls into a space in the school parking lot and turns off the engine. Instead of getting out of the car, he turns toward me again, taking my hand in both of his and rubbing my fingers. For a brief moment I wonder if he’s going to kiss me again. But instead he pulls back.
“I thought we were partners? A team?”
“We are.” I squeeze his hand. “I just need to think things through a little more, then I’ll tell you. I promise.”
His quick nod says okay, but I can tell that it’s not. He gets out on his side, then comes around and opens my door. He offers his hand to steady me as I step down.
Neither of us has much to say as we walk toward the school buildings, but he does drape his arm over my shoulders, which is a first.
Suddenly, my worldview has changed. I get to experience what it’s like to be Journey. Everyone he passes offers a nod, or a high five. Small gifts of food are still involved. This time, instead of being invisible girl walking, I’m part of the show.
“Hey, Journey. Hi, Erin.” The greeting is repeated at least ten times, from people I know but have never spoken to. I even score a snack pack of Mini Oreos. How cool is that?
The topper comes when a girl with a camera asks us to pose for a photo in front of the flagpole. “It’s for the yearbook,” she says.
Journey’s all like, “Of course.”
Meanwhile, I’m worried that we’re barely ten feet from Principal Roberts’s office window. His blinds are closed now, but I know what a dedicated spy he is. And, while I fully expect something to come along and ruin this amazing moment, I don’t want it to be Rachel overreacting to a tip from Principal Roberts.
32
The leading cause of wrongful convictions in our country is eyewitness IDs that are wrong.
—VICTOR FLEMMING