Makani stopped. “Excuse me?”
Rodrigo Morales, a shortish guy with intense eyes and enormous headphones draped around his neck, seemed startled to be called out. His recovery was quick. “I’ll give you a ride home, sweetheart.”
“Ugh,” one of his two female friends said.
“She’s right.” Makani crossed her arms. “Ugh.”
“Oh, I can give you both a ride,” Rodrigo said with misplaced swagger, and the other female threw a hamburger bun at his head.
“That’d be the only thing worse than walking,” another friend said drily. His name was David, and he was a scrawny senior in an oversize T-shirt with a bright green Minecraft Creeper on it. The whole group burst into howls of laughter.
“Aw, shut up.” But Rodrigo’s embarrassed anger was directed at David, and it prompted a volley of outrageous insults between them.
Makani wasn’t sure when Ollie had returned to her side. She was grateful that he’d noticed and was willing to help, but she was even more grateful that Rodrigo had already forgotten. They glanced at each other, self-consciously.
“See you later?” she said.
“Later,” he agreed.
She escaped to the other side of the quad and inclined her head in the gamers’ direction. “What do you see in that guy, anyway?” she asked Alex, who’d been harboring inexplicable feelings for Rodrigo since August.
Alex shrugged. “What? He’s cute. And he’s really smart.”
“He’s immature.”
“He’ll grow up.” She grinned and added, “I’ll help him.”
“That requires speaking to him first,” Darby said.
“We speak. We speak to each other all the time in physics.”
Darby scoffed. “Like yesterday, when you blasted him for miscalculating that one equation? That had to be the first answer he’s ever gotten wrong.”
“Thus, the blasting.”
“Poor Rodrigo.” Makani’s curls bounced as she shook her head. “It’s hard being the unrequited crush of Alexandra Shimerda.”
“I’m telling you, there’s something between us.”
Darby patted her leg condescendingly. Alex slapped his hand away, but they were laughing as the bell rang. Its shrill waves reverberated off the flat buildings, and they groaned as they collected their belongings.
Makani tossed her empty soda-fountain cup into the recycle bin. “Darby, I won’t need a ride today. Ollie’s taking me home.”
Darby paused, mid-putting on his backpack, to exchange a look with Alex.
That was all it took. Makani’s jaw clenched. She was the third wheel again, and it was clear that the first two wheels had been talking about her. “What? What?”
For once, Alex was reluctant to speak. Darby cleared his throat for the delicate attempt. “It’s just . . . you haven’t lived here as long as we have,” he said. “We don’t know if Ollie really almost drowned, or if he really sleeps with the lowlifes at the Red Spot, but there’s definitely something . . . not right there. Not since his parents died.”
Alex tugged on her skirt’s frayed hem. “We don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Hurt again,” Darby said.
Makani’s hands trembled. “You don’t know him.”
“Neither do you,” he said.
“So, what? A fucked-up thing happened to him, and then maybe he made some mistakes. But maybe he didn’t. And if he did, who cares? Does that mean he doesn’t deserve a second chance?”
Alex took a step back. “Whoa. Where’s this coming from?”
Makani shoved her hands in her pockets and balled them into fists. “He’s driving me five minutes to my front door. I’ll be fine.” She wasn’t sure if they could hear her as she stormed away, or if she even wanted them to hear her. She rephrased it, wrapping the words around herself against the chill of the October wind. “I’m fine.”
CHAPTER SIX
Ollie held open the passenger-side door of the Crown Vic. The gesture was sweet and old-fashioned. “I feel like I’ve done something bad,” Makani said, patting the cruiser’s frame as she climbed in.
Ollie gave her a wry smile. “Now you know how I always feel.”
It was a truth land mine—the exact reason why they were drawn to each other, told in the form of an obvious joke—but since Makani was the only one who recognized it, she kept the unintentional epiphany to herself. She watched him walk in front of the hood and then around to the driver’s side. The way his body moved reminded her of something else old-fashioned: Rebel Without a Cause. James Dean was never so pale or so pink, but Ollie walked like a cool guy who was still deeply unsure of himself.
The interior of the car was clean and empty. The upholstery in the front was cloth, but the backseat was vinyl. Probably so that officers could clean up more easily—sweat, vomit, urine, blood. The steel-mesh divider had been removed, and there were no special radios or computer equipment, only a short handle beside the driver-side mirror that controlled a spotlight. Everything else looked normal, but she felt apprehensive. Her memories of the police were not fond.
Ollie tossed his bag into the back and slid inside.
“So, have you?” she asked. “Done something bad?”
It was meant to be a flirtatious continuation of their joke, but it didn’t come out sounding that way. Warnings from her friends rattled in her head. She wondered which of the rumors about Ollie might be true, at least partially, and felt guilty for snapping at Darby and Alex. She’d have to send them an apology text later. Maybe even a reconciliatory hairy ass.
Ollie paused, his hand on the ignition, to look at her square. “Have you?”
“Yes,” she said. It was the most truth that she could admit.
“Yeah.” He turned the ignition. “Me too.”
They inched into the dusty herd of American-made cars and trucks headed for the exit. Bumper stickers and vinyl crosses on rear windows proclaimed their driver’s devotion to Jesus Christ. Trademark Browning deer heads marked others as hunters, and more vehicles than not had something star-spangled or a faded SUPPORT OUR TROOPS magnetized ribbon. The dirt parking lot looked nothing like the parking lots back home, and it always made Makani feel as foreign and unwanted as a Toyota.
Ollie, lost in his own ruminations, didn’t speak again until they were next in line to exit. “Which way?”
For a split second, Makani was surprised that he didn’t know where she lived. But why would he? “Take a right. And then in two blocks, you’ll take another.”
The energy in the car deflated even further. “So, this won’t be a long ride home.”
His disappointment made her feel better. She gave him a coy smile. “I never told you,” she said, “but I like your hair.”
Ollie glanced at her as he maneuvered onto the street. “Yeah?”
“It’s empowering. A big middle finger to gender stereotypes.”
He glanced at her again, checking to make sure that she wasn’t making fun of him. She wasn’t. Makani hadn’t been positive until this moment, but the pink was angry and defiant. It was sexy.