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Harleigh
“Tellme again why he’s here?” Celeste threw a displeased look at Nate, and then frowned back at me.
“He invited himself, what was I supposed to do?”
“Uh, I don’t know,” she whisper-hissed. “How about say no? Make up some excuse about why he couldn’t possibly come with us. I’m sure you could have thought of something.”
“You know, you could try speaking a little louder, Rowe.” Nate chuckled from upfront. “Then I might actually hear what you’re saying.”
I suppressed a smile, but Celeste silently fumed.
“I think it’s cool you’re tagging along,” Miles said. “Evens things out a little.”
“What the hell, Miles?” Celeste leaned forward and tugged his hair. He yelped, trying to swat her away.
Nate caught my eye in the rearview mirror and arched his brow. “You good back there, Maguire?”
I nodded, moving my gaze to the window. But not before I caught his smirk. I didn’t know Nate’s story, didn’t want to know it, but Celeste was right, when he’d overheard us talking about ditching the pep rally, he’d asked to tag along. Had even gone so far as to offer to drive us somewhere we could hang out and have fun. Whatever that meant.
And I hadn’t had it in me to tell him no.
“The reservoir?” Miles said and I bolted upright.
“No. Absolutely not.”
It was one thing to come out here on an afternoon when no one was around. But it was the weekend.
“Relax, Maguire. We’re not going across to their territory. It’s a big place, we’ll be good.”
So why did it feel like tempting fate? It was Friday night. When I’d lived in The Row, every Friday was a party down at the res. Every weekend without fail.
I hadn’t come down here much. The noise and crowd. All the alcohol and drugs. I didn’t like it.
Celeste touched my arm, and asked, “Hey, you okay? We don’t have to—”
“It’s fine.”
Fine.
The staple word of my vocabulary.
“Come on, you guys. I promised you a night of anti-pep rally fun. It’d be nice if you gave me a chance to deliver.”
“What’s in it for you, Miller?” Celeste drawled.
“Beats hanging out with Denby and his bunch of douchebag friends, or my brother and Max.” He feigned a shudder.
“You’re trying to tell me you and Marc aren’t—”
“We’re cousins.”
“No shit,” Miles said.
“It’s not something either of us likes to advertise.”
“Can’t say I blame you there.”
“But family politics can make things… difficult. Sometimes it’s easier to keep the peace than rock the boat.”
