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I mirror him and cross my arms too. “I’m sure that you have slept in all kinds of beds, Tate.”
He raises his eyebrows and I swear that his fingers almost go up to touch the cross on his chain. He looks displeased.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he says. It sounds like he’s pleading.
There’s a horrible shooting pain deep in my oesophagus but the words tumble out of mouth anyway before I can stop them.
“I hope that you lose tonight, Tate.”
And then I storm off, stomach churning.
*
After our conversation Tate locked himself in the garage and I heard all sorts of hacking and drilling sounds, so I imagine that he’s making some sort of voodoo doll. I quickly got changed and fled to Kit’s house.
I am naturally artsy and Kit is naturally morbid so the Halloween dance banners are coming along exceptionally well. Everything is orange, purple, and black, and I’m actually looking forward to being at some kind of social gathering.
Which reminds me.
I roll over so that I’m directly in front of Kit and I stare at her until she looks up. She yelps when she sees the intensity of my gaze.
“Oh my God,what?” she exclaims, a shiver rumbling through her.
“I have a fashion related question,” I say.
She is thoroughly astounded. She adds a final leg to one of her dangly black spiders and sets down her brush. “Go on,” she encourages.
“It is purely for malicious purposes,” I confess.
She nods. “As it should be.”
“I was wondering…” I swallow, my stomach fluttering with butterflies. “Do you have a top that is super cute… but also violently inappropriate that I could possibly wear this evening?”
She blinks at me. Her eyes roam over my slouchy jumper and wide leg jeans. She nods like she’s dreaming.
“Are you sure?” she asks as she pulls out a secret, hidden garment from one of her under-the-bed drawers.
“Yes. Just for tonight,” I add.
Kit bids me to close my eyes and then she places the item in my hands. She actually puts it on a cushion first, for extra drama.
I look down at it and then give her a shy smile.
“Thank you, Kit,” I say. “It’s perfect.”
*
Mitch and Tate pull up to collect me from Kit’s house at five, and then we reach the race location with time to spare. I have my secret top on underneath my jumper and it’s making me emit a devilish glow.
Tate can sense it. He keeps looking at me in the rear-view mirror because he knows that I am up to something.
But I can also sense something secretive shimmering beneathhisunyieldingly composed façade, piquing my interest and annoying me senseless.
He hasn’t said anything to me since my volcanic eruption on the driveway and, if I’m being honest, I don’t blame him.
As we pull up I look down at the lit-up track. Now I understand my mom’s hesitance: this looks dangerous. It doesn’t seem as though it would fit many racers, so maybe only a few bikers race at a time. There’s a crowd all the way around the track, and behind that I see stalls set up by sponsors and merchandise vendors.
When we get out, Tate dismounts his bike and disappears without a second glance.
