“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said sweetly. “Am I allowed to speak? I wasn’t clear on the rules.”
“Fine. Tell you what. We have a bit of a drive. On the way there, you can ask me anything you want—within reason—and I’ll answer.”
“But?” I prompted, knowing there would be a catch.
“I get to ask you anything on the way home.”
I pursed my lips as I considered. “Anything?”
“Within reason,” he repeated.
I thought about it for a minute before nodding. “Okay. How long are we going to be in the car?”
“About half an hour longer,” he said.
“Will you tell me where we’re going?”
“Uh-uh,” he clucked. “I get to ask the questions on this leg.”
“Fine.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you want to know?”
“How about something easy? Where are you from?”
“I already told you that.” I rolled my eyes. “West Bexby.”
“Originally? You grew up there.”
“No.”
“Where did you grow up, then?” he asked.
“Everywhere.”
Holden remained silent and I knew he was waiting for me to give a better answer. “I didn’t know my parents, so I kinda bounced around.”
“Was there any place memorable?”
I shrugged. “Not really.”
I hated talking about myself. There just wasn’t much to tell. I hadn’t lived the life of luxury that he had. I’d never traveled to exotic locations or gone to fancy schools.
“Favorite food?” he asked.
“Whatever I eat next,” I admitted sheepishly.
He glanced over at me, his green eyes sparkling with interest. “Out of curiosity, why?”
“Because there are so many things I haven’t tried.” I hesitated, feeling the heat of embarrassment climbing up my neck. “And because there were times when I didn’t have anything to eat at all.”
“Oh.” Holden remained quiet for a few minutes as if he hadn’t expected my answer. Finally, he cleared his throat and forged on. “You mentioned a flatmate in Pixpy.”
“Bexby,” I corrected him.
“What’s her name?”
“Eliza,” I told him. “She’s pretty much my only friend.”
“Why’s that?” Holden merged onto the highway.