Through to You by Lauren Barnholdt

Author:Lauren Barnholdt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2014-07-09T16:00:00+00:00

Penn

This is definitely a mistake. Somehow I have agreed to take Harper out to the Sailing Burrito. The Sailing Burrito is this Mexican place that’s close to our school. It’s only open for dinner, and the food there is pretty disgusting.

But at night everyone from our school shows up there. It’s almost like a big cafeteria, with everyone moving from one table to the next. When it’s warm out, like it is tonight, they open up their huge outdoor patio. I guess the original idea was that the patio would be used mostly for happy hours—they’d play music and serve piña coladas and daiquiris. But almost immediately after the place opened, the high school kids started to take over, and after a while the owner kind of just went with it. The food isn’t really good enough to attract the after-work crowd, and so now everyone from school hangs out there and drinks virgin margaritas on the deck.

Showing up with Harper is kind of like making a public declaration. It’s like a declaration that we’re . . . not together, but at least, you know, together.

I look over at her. She’s twirling a strand of hair around her finger, her head tilted slightly as she looks out the window.

All those questions her mom was asking threw me. Who asks questions like that? Especially the one about how she could be sure I wasn’t going to leave her daughter tonight the way I had earlier at the carnival. I mean, really? How was I supposed to answer that? And why did Harper tell her mom about that anyway? God, she’s so sexy, though.

I watch as she pulls her leg up onto the seat and sort of leans her chin against her knee, and I so want to kiss her. Her hair falls over her face in soft waves, and I resist the urge to reach over and run my fingers through it. Her T-shirt hugs her in just the right places. I shift on the seat and try to keep my thoughts a little more innocent. But she smells so damn good that it’s difficult.

“You’re being quiet,” I say. “Don’t you want to talk?” I need something to keep my mind off the impure thoughts running through my head.

“Yes.” She turns to me and pushes her hair behind her ear, and I notice she’s wearing sparkly purple flip-flops. Her feet are tan, and her toenails are painted light purple. “Let’s talk about how you freaked out earlier and ditched me.”

“I didn’t ditch you.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No. ‘Ditching’ would mean that I left you at the carnival. Which I most certainly did not. I dropped you off at home, safe and sound.”

She shakes her head. “ ‘Ditching’ means that you left me. ‘Stranding me’ would be if you left me at the carnival.”

I roll my eyes and pull into the parking lot of the Sailing Burrito. We have to pass by the deck to find a spot, and the place is packed. I shut off the engine, pull the keys out of the ignition, and flip them around my finger.

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