The Other Guys

Chapter 13

“You,” someone barks at me, clutching my arm tighter than necessary and detaining me for the time being, “where do you think you’re going?”

I give Lola a puzzled look as I turn to look at her, not quite getting why her nails are digging into my skin to the point of pain.

I fleetingly glance at her hand since she still hasn’t removed it before I meet her narrowed eyes and blink at her blankly.

“Um, home?” I reply after little deliberation, considering that school’s done for the day, but my statement comes out as a question because I get the feeling I won’t actually be going home.

“No, you’re not,” Lola argues, shaking her head, but I already knew she’d say something like that.

“I’m not?” I echo, lifting my eyebrows, waiting for her elaborate.

“No, you promised to tell me what’s up between you and the new guy, so you’re not wiggling out of this. Don’t even think about it,” Lola warns me, shaking her index finger at me before she starts tugging me towards her car and making me stumble along the way.

I blow out a sigh, realizing that as much as I wanted to believe it, I’m not in the clear yet. Not even the whole Rob drama didn’t put her mind off it and I really thought she’s forgotten all about that weirdness.

“Can I just tell Brady not to wait for me? He was supposed to be giving me a ride back home,” I explain to her, looking over my shoulder in hopes that I’d catch a sight of my boyfriend somewhere in the crowd, but unsurprisingly, I don’t. He’s probably already by his car, talking to some of our classmates and waiting for me to show up.

“I already talked to him. Unless you want him to come with, so that you can explain to both of us why the new student makes you blush like a virgin nun,” Lola quips, glancing at me from the corner of her eye as a half-smile, half-smirk tugs at her lips while she keeps tugging at my hand.

I don’t even bother correcting her that there aren’t actually non-virgin nuns.

This time I do feel myself blush in indignation and I get antsy, like there’s an invisible noose tightening around my neck. 

Before I know it, I’m shaking my head no, dismissing every idea of asking Brady to tag along because god knows he wouldn’t want to hear this.

Lola finally lets go of me, but only because we’re standing right in front of her car, a very old and yet very grand Mustang, and I rub my arm protectively. She really did think that I might make a run for it.

Instead of acknowledging the truth, which is that yes, Locker Boy does have a surprising effect on me, I skirt around the topic altogether.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask as Lola and I get into the car and buckle up, resigned with the fact that I’m sort of being kidnapped.

“For milkshakes,” Lola responds, checking the rearview mirror and starting the car as I nod in approval. I’m definitely craving some strawberry milkshake at the moment, so if the price I have to pay to get it is to get kidnapped, then so be it. Worse things have happened.

I turn on the radio, hoping to prevent us from speaking during the car ride and Lola doesn’t object or ask any uncomfortable questions. That is, until we’re finally seated in the local bistro and enjoying our milkshakes.

“So,” Lola drawls, pausing to slurp on her yummy chocolate milkshake, “who goes first?”

“You,” I reply without thinking, harboring the silly hope that if I get her talking about Rob for long enough, every thought of Ethan would flee her mind, “what going on with Rob?”