Chapter 8: Elodie

"Good job today, folks. We'll see you back here bright and early tomorrow morning. Now who can give Elodie a ride home?" asked Dr. McGrath.

Please, please don't let it be -

"I'll do it," said Sawyer.

Nobody else volunteered.

Crap.

"Take the truck," said Dr. McGrath, tossing him the keys. "I'll hitch a ride home with Patrick. We need to go over some things."

Sawyer held open the door. "After you."

I took a firmer grip on my pack strap and went outside. It was just a car ride, I told myself. And a pretty short one at that. There was no reason to get all wound up. But as soon as he shut his door and started the engine, I felt my muscles coil up. Without any of the others as a buffer, there was nothing to distract me from him.

At the end of the gravel drive, he turned toward me with a soft smile that put Rich Phillips' grin to shame. "Which way?"

My stomach did a shimmy and my hands clutched my pack in a death grip. "Left."

Seriously, this was ridiculous. There was nothing about this guy that should impede my freaking breathing. He was just driving. In fact, he seemed to have been going out of his way all day to be non-threatening, always moving slowly and talking in that soft voice like I was a skittish horse or something. And, crap, maybe I was. I was nervous with him. Not awkward or shy like whenever I was the center of attention, but straight up jittery and ridiculously aware of him at every moment. Ever since he'd taken my hand this morning, my body had been charged up like a freaking Duracell. It was nerve-wracking.

"I wanted to apologize," he said.

I jolted at the sound of his voice, then cursed myself for the reaction. This wasn't like me. Not at all.

"For what?" I managed.

"For scaring you," he said. "I jumped to conclusions yesterday and I reacted. I was really, really angry - not at you - but it just happened to spill over on you when I thought you were... Well you know what I thought." He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "I just wanted to say that I'm not going to hurt you, and I'm really sorry I freaked you out like that."

He thought I was afraid of him because of what had happened in the clearing. Well, that was a helluva lot less embarrassing than the reality.

"I'm not afraid of you, Sawyer." At least not the way you think. "I was just... really surprised to see you today."

"That makes two of us. But I have to say that I'm really glad to see you again under less... dramatic circumstances."

He was glad to see me? Well didn't that just make my heart go pitter pat? What was this? Where was that whole, perfectly-honed ice queen routine I'd perfected over the last three years of high school?

Rather than responding to his comment, I said, "Can you pull off here at Hansen's for a bit?"

Sawyer spun the wheel and whipped into the parking lot.

"Just over to the side of the building, thanks."

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"I need to pick up my bike."

I slipped out of the truck and made a beeline for the dumpster. I'd stashed what was left of my bike behind it when I set out for work. As soon as I dragged it around, Sawyer was out of the truck.

"What the hell happened to it?"

"A classmate of mine backed over it this morning. That's why I was late to work."

He picked it up and hefted it into the bed of the truck. "Were they just not paying attention? Because, damn, you'd think they'd notice this."

"Oh no, she knew exactly what she was doing." I grimaced as the bike clattered into the back. But really, being banged around in a truck bed wasn't gonna do it any further harm.

"Someone did this on purpose? Why?" There was a little growl in his voice that made my belly jump again, but not with nerves. I could tell he was angry on my behalf and, for some reason, that pleased me a great deal.

"She thought I was poaching on her territory. As if I would even look cross-eyed at the likes of Rich Phillips." I could see Rich's truck still parked on the far side of the lot, so I guessed the Barbie Squad hadn't dropped him off from their little water skiing excursion. I shook off the desire to growl myself and climbed back into the truck. "It's a long-standing war - one that's always been one-sided. Her against me."

"Every school's got one."

I directed him back to my road.

"So are you uninterested in this Phillips guy because you're seeing somebody else or because he's a douche?"

I thought of Rich boxing me in this morning, getting me on Amber's radar. "He's attractive, charming, and completely full of himself. And he can't stand the idea that someone won't fall at his feet and be grateful for the attention he pays." I scowled, wishing I had said or done something this morning instead of just standing there.

"He hassling you?" The fury from yesterday was back in his voice. When I glanced over, his jaw was tight, his hands in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

"He's harmless. An idiot, but harmless." But I had a feeling that Sawyer wasn't harmless. I could see so much rage simmering beneath the surface, just looking for an outlet. I wondered where it came from.

Sawyer visibly reeled his temper back in, then shot a half-smile in my direction. "So he is a douche. Although that doesn't rule out option A."

"Option A?"

"That you're seeing somebody else."

It took a minute for my brain to catch up to what he was saying, and when I did, all I could do was stare at him. I'm pretty sure my mouth was actually hanging part-way open, but I couldn't seem to help it. Sawyer McGrath was fishing to find out if I was dating somebody. Which presumably meant that he hoped I wasn't.

"I... uh... " Oh great. Now I was reduced to monosyllabic stammering. Yes, here sat the future valedictorian of Mortimer High School. Aren't we all so proud?

"It's okay. That's not really any of my business," he said. "I mean, I guess it's weird that I'm asking after how we met yesterday and all. Forget it."

"No," I said.

"No, it's not weird?"

"Yes. I mean, no." Crap. Why couldn't I get my brain to work? "Maybe it is a little weird after yesterday, but no I'm not. Seeing anybody." And why did you tell him that, genius? Where exactly do you expect this to go? That's right. The train is pulling out of the station to Nowheresville, where you can't date. So stop encouraging him.

"Good to know," said Sawyer, pulling into my driveway.

Anxious, I looked toward the garage, but Dad wasn't back from his shift yet. He would flip his lid if he saw some guy bringing me home.

I unbuckled my seatbelt. "Thanks for the ride," I told him, hoping my face didn't betray the schizo conversation I was having with myself.

"No problem." Sawyer got out of the truck and retrieved my bike from the back. "Where do you want it?"

Seeing him holding the thing with the taco shell front wheel and the bent frame, I frowned. "I guess I probably should have just had you toss it in the dumpster. Even if I got a new front wheel, I probably won't be able to straighten that frame out."

Sawyer studied it. "Doesn't look good," he agreed.

"I guess just lean it against the wall of the garage there. I'll let Dad decide what to do with it. Thanks."

Relieved of the bike, he seemed not to know what to do with his hands, so he shoved them in the back pockets of his shorts and rocked back on his heels, looking at me.

I felt the blood rushing under my skin and prayed to half a dozen deities that I wasn't blushing like a fire engine. "Um, I'd invite you in for a Coke or something, but my dad is kind of over-protective, and I'm really not allowed to have guys over while he's out." According to The Rules, I really wasn't allowed to have anyone over while he was out, but that sounded even more lame and hard to believe. I gave an awkward shrug and half-smile. "Only daughter, single parent, and all that."

"S'ok. I need to get home myself." He took a few steps toward the truck. "Since you're kind of sans transportation, why don't you let me pick you up for work in the morning. It wouldn't be any trouble. We don't live too far from here."

Oh, no. No. I could not have a guy coming to my house to pick me up. Dad would freak and probably put me on house arrest. But it's not like I could hike six miles to work every day.

"Do you think you could pick me up at Hansen's?"

If he thought that was an odd request, he let it pass. "Sure. Say seven-thirty?"

"I'll see you then. Thanks."

I fiddled with my keys as he climbed in the truck, waved, and drove away.

What. The. Hell. Am. I. Doing?

I was half numb with shock as I unlocked the door and headed for the kitchen to start something for supper. This was stupid. I was acting like a normal girl with a normal crush on a cute guy. It wasn't just stupid, it was dangerous. Both to him and to me. It wouldn't matter if he was a hulking giant of a guy if I wolfed out. Strength was nothing against razor sharp teeth.

I'd spent the last four years of my life doing everything in my power to avoid that eventuality. And here Sawyer comes and wrecks my "all high school boys are morons and assholes" rule to live by in just over twenty-four hours, such that I'd gone and accepted a ride to work and was looking forward to it.

I pulled some chicken out of the freezer and tossed it in the microwave to defrost. If I didn't get a handle on this and put a stop to it fast, this chicken wasn't going to be the only thing that was cooked.

I replayed our conversation from the ride home, reliving every awkward moment in a loop as I gathered ingredients for dinner. On the third time through, I stopped, my hand inches from the bottle of Italian dressing.

He'd just whipped into my driveway. I'd never given the address or pointed out the house, and our name wasn't on the mailbox.

How had Sawyer known which house was mine?