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Robbie chuckles. “Well, luckily, I’ve never been one to blindly follow what society tells me I’m supposed to do, so I’m just gonna keep doing what makes me happy.”
“No.” Melanie stomps her foot in defiance. “This stops now.”
“You’re free to start tagging along, if you want,” he offers.
“No, thank you.”
“Fine. We’ll all just see each other at Christmas, then.”
“You’re coming to my family’s Christmas?!” she shrieks.
“Yes.”
“No, you’re not.”
“And miss Francie’s peppermint snickerdoodles?” He scoffs. “Not a chance.”
“Robbie, where are you going?”
“Work.”
“Bullshit.”
I stare into the backseat of Clive’s car, or what bits of it I can see into. The windows are covered with makeshift blockers to keep the sun out — or unwanted attention. Like exactly what I’m doing right now.
There’s a pillow on the seat. Food wrappers and empty water bottles. Not enough evidence to prove it but just enough to make me believe it.
Trix enters my reflection in the window and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “You want to catch that movie?” she asks, giving me a reassuring squeeze.
I force a light smile. “No, I think I’ll just head home.”
“I’ll drive you back to your car.” She looks over her shoulder. “Once we separate those two, obviously…”
I chuckle and follow her gaze toward the empty street. “Where did they go, exactly?” I ask.
She grimaces. “Ah, crap.”
We rush off down the street to catch up with them.
