As I turn out of the parking lot, I see a figure walking in the pouring rain with a black hoodie pulled up over their head, but that’s the only thing protecting them against the downpour. As I get closer, my lips turn up slightly when I see who it is.
I pull up next to him and crack my window slightly. “I know you have a car.”
I have his attention. His eyes are angry and showing annoyance as he approaches me. “I walked today.”
I look up at the dark gray sky. “Not a great plan.”
“Fuck off, Lancaster.”
Something about his ever-present animosity really does it for me. “Get in.”
“Fuck. Off.” He starts walking again, and I’m glad no one is behind me because I slowly creep next to him.
“It’s pouring. Are you really this stubborn?”
“Yes. Go. Away.” I pull up a little farther and then park the car, leaving it running when I get out and walk over to him, ignoring the downpour.
“Just get in the car.” A loud crack of thunder echoes around us just after lightning ignites the sky, but he doesn’t flinch.
“What the hell is your deal?”
“My deal?” I’m soaked now, just like him. But neither of us move.
“Yes. Your deal.” He pokes my chest with a bony finger, dripping with animosity. “You stare at me. All the goddamned time. We never speak. You’re a preppy motherfucker.” He nods toward my vehicle—the one my parents paid for, though I’m not naïve and do realize it’s worth more than most people’s annual salary. “And I want nothing to do with you. So why are you stopping and offering me a ride?”
I step closer to him, the sky sluicing down in punishing rain, and look into those bright green eyes I can’t stop thinking about. “Because I stare at you a lot.”
He pulls back, clearly not expecting that answer. “What?”
I shrug. “I watch you. I know you have a car. I know you have a brother and a sister who also have cars. And yet . . .” I thrust my hand out, palm up catching the rain. “You’re walking in the rain. So maybe I’m curious about why that is when you could be driving or have asked someone to give you a ride.” I bring my hand back down to my side and step closer to him, continuing, “About why you always look so damn sad and why you have that blank stare on your face. About why, for someone who seems to have it all, you refuse all care.”
“Fuck you,” he spits with so much venom, I feel it viscerally in my soul.
“You asked.”
“I didn’t ask you to stop, nor did I ask you to stalk me like some creep.” He pushes past me and starts walking again but stops when he hears me following behind him. He points toward my car. “You’re just going to leave that fancy, shiny car back there, running?”
I shrug my shoulders, unbothered because honestly, who cares. “Unless you get in. Yeah.”
“Why?” He walks closer to me, anger spewing from him. “Why do you care? You don’t know me.”
“But I want to.” The admission slips from my lips, but I don’t reel it back in. He already thinks I’m a crazy-ass stalker, and he seems to have picked up on me watching him a lot. Something I should worry about others picking up on if he has—but I don’t. Because again—who cares. I’m past caring, and everyone around me is so oblivious, I know deep down they have no clue.
He stares at me like I’m insane and then huffs, walking toward my car and surprising me when he yanks the passenger-side door open and flops down on my leather seats. I smile to myself and climb behind the wheel, feeling oddly triumphant.
“Hope your daddy doesn’t mind the muddy feet and the wet seats,” he scoffs as I pull back onto the road.
“I don’t care if he does.”
“Ah. Feeling rebellious, huh? Is that what this is? Getting back at daddy?”
He wants to rile me up, but that’s not the way to do it. I’m indifferent when it comes to my parents. I don’t hate them, but I don’t care enough to try to piss them off either. “No. He won’t see the damage, if there is any.”
He leans his wet head against my window and stares outside. “Oh, so you’re not getting enough attention at home?”
I snort. “I’d be fine with less attention than I already get. My stopping to pick your soggy ass up has nothing to do with my parents.” I can barely see through the rain, despite the windshield wiper on high, so I drive slowly down the street in front of our school. “Where are we going, by the way?”
“I was walking to my place to grab my car, but I’m already late . . .”
“Late for what?”
I notice he’s chewing on his bottom lip, clearly conflicted about telling me where he’s headed. “The mission downtown.” My brows must furrow in confusion because I can feel his eyes on me now. “I volunteer there, and I’m fucking late. So, if you can take me there, awesome. If not, take me to my place, so I can get my car.”
I turn toward the street that will take us to the interstate to get downtown more quickly. “I don’t mind. Just surprised. That’s all.”
“Why?” His voice is gravelly and deep, a rumble that goes straight to my dick, and I have to adjust in my seat, hoping he won’t see. I’m not entirely convinced he won’t hit me if he found out the kind of thoughts I’ve had about him over the past three years of high school.
“Volunteering after school. It seems like a lot.”
“It’s not,” he grunts and doesn’t offer any further explanation, just like I expected from him.
When we arrive at the city mission, the rain still hasn’t let up, but he quickly ditches my car and me in the parking spot and darts up to the brick building. It’s cute he thinks I’ll let this go.
I shut off my car, climb out, and lock it before I follow him inside, much to his disapproval. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls, his lithe body nearly pressed against mine as he cages me against the wall with his finger in my face.
“Volunteering.” I give him a lazy grin.
Anger vibrates through him as he stares at me like he can’t quite figure me out. He’s not the first. But just as he’s about to say something else, two kids—I’d say they’re around eleven or twelve—walk up to us excitedly. “Rhett! You’re here!”
He pushes away from me, his focus on the boys with ripped jeans and muddy tennis shoes. They’re wearing t-shirts a size too big for their little bodies, but they’re both grinning at Rhett like he’s their god.
“Hey, guys.” Rhett clears his throat as if he’s trying to chase away his bad attitude, if only for these kids with the bright, hope-filled eyes. “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?”
They grin, big and bright, and I swear it’s the first time I’ve witnessed Rhett smiling too. It’s almost too much to process.
He jerks his head toward the double doors. “Let’s go inside.”
They happily run through the doors after pulling them open, but Rhett turns back to me, his smile gone, and a deadly cold stare replacing it. “I don’t know what your game is here, and I don’t really care. If you do anything to hurt these kids, I will end you.”