“Kissing…” I pulled back and gave her a soft smile. “…is always a good idea.”
She flushed. “I should probably go to my next class.”
“You can open it.” I nodded to the envelope. “Now that the classroom is empty.”
A look of pure joy crossed her face before she reached for the envelope and tore it open.
The key dropped out with a note taped to it.
“From Anonymous,” she read aloud. “Hmm… wonder who that is?”
“No clue,” I said seriously. “Some people like to keep their identity a secret just in case the gift receiver isn’t happy with the gift.”
“So, a key?” She lifted it into the air. “Is my gift?”
“Let’s just say the experience is the gift.” I shrugged, hoping she would get the hint not to make a big deal. ‘Then again, if buying you a car gets me in your good graces, I’m all for it.”
“A car?”
“Look closer.”
She brought the key closer to her face and squinted at it. “Holy…” Her eyes flashed to mine, filled with a hundred questions.
“Vroom, vroom?” I smiled and leaned closer. “Oh, and you’re going to love this part.”
“What part?”
“The shopping, of course.” I grinned, satisfied with her stunned expression. “Now get to class. I’ll text you later.”
“But—”
“You know how I feel about being late.”
Rolling her eyes, she put the key in her back pocket grabbed her bag then reached up and kissed me on the cheek. “Thanks for the surprise.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
She laughed softly and damn-near skipped out of the room.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“I have a secret,” I mused, drawing circles in my journal, feeling marginally better since my asshole of a father had given me more pills. “Wanna know?”
“What?” Mel asked, her expression shuttered.
“I’m going to die.” I shrugged. “Just thought you should know, since it’s going to be your fault.” I held up a piece of fruit. “Hungry?” —The Journal of Taylor B.
Lisa
I THINK IN ALL my twenty-one years of living, I’d skipped once, maybe twice. And both times I was probably in pigtails. But he made me want to skip. A Ferrari? I knew he was extravagant, a bit crazy, but I felt… special, like he’d really listened to me.
By the time I skipped back into my apartment, the easy, happy-go-lucky feeling was gone.
Both Wes and Gabe were waiting inside, sitting on the couch, looking pissed.
“Is, uh, everything okay?” I dropped my bag onto the floor and crossed the room.
Gabe looked up first, his eyes menacing. Wes put a hand on his shoulder as if to keep him from lunging at me.