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Credence(78)

Author:Penelope Douglas

I hear Noah scoff as he starts the truck, and without a word, he speeds off, probably determined to take as long as possible now.

We wind through the forest, heading down the mountain on the narrow roads as the sunlight flashes through the trees and Noah reaches between my knees to shift the old truck.

I keep thinking about Jake’s last words last night.

Especially all winter.

They’re living it up now, because they know they’ll have to go without, but…

If Jake hadn’t pulled away last night, we wouldn’t have stopped.

I mean, I guess he’s right. We’re both lonely, and we acted out. I need family a lot more than I need sex, and going through with what we were doing last night would’ve complicated everything. He was right to stop it.

Right? I still taste his whisper on my mouth. You are beautiful and pulling my body away from yours was the most pain I’ve ever been in.

I rub my palms together in my lap as little butterflies go off in my stomach.

I don’t know. I felt great waking up today, knowing I didn’t do something I might’ve regretted, but… If it happens again, I still don’t think I’ll be the one to stop it.

“So, are you and my dad okay?” someone asks.

I blink, realizing it came from my left.

I look at Noah. “Huh?”

Why wouldn’t his dad and I be okay? Does he know something?

He glances over at me, trying to keep his eyes on the road, too. “The little thing…” he hints, “in the truck last night?”

It takes me a moment, but then I remember. The argument. When he threatened to spank me.

“He’s a pain in the ass,” Noah continues. “Seriously. Don’t let him get to you. I’m continually surprised he ever got hard enough to make us.”

And then he laughs, shifting into a higher gear as the truck cruises down the road and the wind breezes through the cab.

A smile pulls at my lips, and I put my head down, trying to hide it. He didn’t have any trouble last night.

I bite my bottom lip to keep the smile from spreading.

Reaching over, I turn on the music, “Gives You Hell” playing as we pick up the town’s radio station. Noah turns it up, Kaleb rolls down his window, and I start to relax as we listen to the music.

The green leaves of the deciduous trees mixed amongst the conifers show yellow tinges that will soon turn to oranges and reds before the violent winds of winter rip them free. The highest peaks in the state have already gotten snow, but here, the air just smells of hay and smoky, earthy food cooked over bonfires that kind of remind me of the fallen apples left to decay under the trees back at Brynmor. It feels like the anticipation you feel when you’re waiting for something to happen.

I tip my head back and close my eyes as Noah sings and the breeze caresses my bare arms.

But then the truck comes to a sudden stop, I lurch forward, and something slams into my chest. I wince at the pain, my eyes popping open as a car pulls out right in front of us.

“Aw, come on!” Noah barks, the truck idling in the middle of the road.

The car backs out of a driveway and pulls forward, taking off down the road as if we didn’t almost crash into them.

I draw in a deep breath, suddenly aware of the ache in my chest again.

I look down and see Kaleb’s arm is shot out in front of me, keeping me from diving head first through the wind-shield. There was no seatbelt for me in the middle.

I look over at him as he scowls at the car disappearing down the road.

Without sparing me a glance, he drops his arm and goes back to looking at his phone.

Hm.

Noah takes off again, but I steal glances at Kaleb every few seconds. So he does know I exist.

We head through town, turning into Ferg’s Freeze on the left and pulling into the drive-through.

A woman’s voice comes over the speaker, and I check out the menu quickly.

“Cheeseburger,” I tell him as he hangs out the window.

“Okay, seven cheeseburgers,” he calls out.

Seven?

Noah turns back to me. “You want bacon on yours?”

I nod.

“All with bacon,” he tells the cashier. “Three—no, four—large fries.”

“I don’t need fries,” I reply.

“I’ll eat yours,” he tells me. “And four milkshakes—two vanilla, one strawberry, and…”

He looks at me over his shoulder.

“Strawberry, too,” I answer.

“Make that two strawberry and also add a Coke.”

She tells him his total, and I sit back in the seat as we pull up behind another car, waiting our turn.

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