Chapter 14
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As I made my way to the bus stop, my thoughts swirled so intensely that I barely registered the sleek car slowing down beside me.
“Camila!”
I turned to see Liam leaning out of the driver’s side window, his easy smile making it impossible not to smile back.
Who would have thought.
“Liam?” I asked, stopping in my tracks. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I was heading to school,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world–which, okay, technically it was. His tone was so casual, like he hadn’t just screeched to a halt next to me like some low–budget action movie hero.“But now I’m on my way to school with you. Get in.”
I hesitated, glancing down the street toward the bus stop. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ll just take the bus.”
“Come on,” he urged, opening the passenger door. “It’s not like I’m going out of my way or anything. Besides, do you really want to sit on that cramped bus with a bunch of freshmen?”
He had a point, annoyingly enough. Letting out a resigned sigh, I slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut behind me. The interior enveloped me in a subtle mix of pine and leather–a surprisingly refined scent. It was the kind of smell that made you think of expensive cologne and cozy winter cabins, and for a brief, fleeting second, I hated how much I liked it.
“Thanks,” I said as he started driving.
“No problem,” he replied, his hands casually gripping the wheel. “So, what’s up with you? You looked a little… preoccupied back there.”
“Preoccupied?” I echoed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Nah, just tired.”
He glanced at me, his eyebrows raised. “Tired or avoiding someone?”
I rolled my eyes. “Not everything is a conspiracy, Liam.”
“If you say so,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice.
We fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the engine humming softly in the background. That was until Liam reached over and turned on the radio.
What I expected: pop, maybe some hip–hop, or one of those generic Top 40 stations everyone listens to.
What I got: a full–on rock anthem, complete with heavy guitar riffs and screaming vocals.
I stared at him, wide–eyed. “You listen to this?”
“What? You don’t like it?” he asked, glancing at me with mock offense.
“I just didn’t peg you as the type,” I admitted.
He smirked. “What type did you peg me as? Let me guess–top 40? Maybe some easy–listening jazz?”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with jazz,” I shot back.
“True,” he breathed out, nodding solemnly. “But there’s also nothing wrong with a little rock to wake you up in the morning.”
I couldn’t argue with that, though I did make a mental note to reevaluate everything I thought I knew about Liam.
“So, do you have a favorite band, or are you one of those people who only listens to whatever’s trending?” he asked.
“Excuse me,” I said, with an eye roll. “I’ll have you know I have excellent taste in music.”
“Oh yeah? Prove it.”
I thought for a moment, then named a band I knew was universally loved but not too mainstream. “The Strokes.”
“Solid choice,” he said, nodding in approval. “But can you name more than three songs?”
I opened my mouth to reply but quickly shut it. Damn it. He caught me.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, laughing.
“Okay, Mr. Music Critic,” I said, trying to change the subject “What’s your favorite band?”
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Chapter 14
“Depends on the day,” he said, shrugging. “Right now, probably Arctic Monkeys.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t they kind of mainstream?”
He grinned. “Touché.”
By the time we pulled into the school parking lot, I realized I had spent the entire ride talking and laughing with him. It was a welcome distraction from the Ethan mess, and for that, I was grateful.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said as we stepped out of the car.
“Anytime,” he replied, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “And hey, maybe next time you can pick the music.”
“Deal,” I said, smiling as we walked toward the school entrance.
For the first time all morning, I finally felt a little more like myself–steady, grounded, and ready to take on the day. That is, until I stepped onto the pavement and saw him. Ethan.
He was leaning casually against his car, like some scene ripped straight out of a teen drama, his eyes locking onto mine the moment I came into
view.
Seriously? Did this guy have some kind of built–in radar for my presence? It was unnerving how quickly he could find me, like he had a sixth sense dedicated entirely to tracking my every move.
“Everything okay?” Liam asked, noticing my sudden change in demeanor.
“Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Let’s get to class.”
As we walked past Ethan, I didn’t so much as glance in his direction, even though I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.
One thing was certain: avoiding him was going to take a hell of a lot more effort than I thought.
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