Page 19 of Drive

He hesitated. “Do you need a ride?”

I gave him a sideways glance. “Sure, I mean, if you’re leaving.” He put a few twenties on the bar top before he re-wrapped his gorgeous frame in his jacket. “I’m leaving.”

Inside his Tahoe, I shivered in theAC, my hair still damp and matted to my face.

Nate drove with his fist on top of the wheel and his elbow on the console rest between us. I tried and succeeded to keep my eyes on the road, though he was tempting.

“So, two years left at school. Where will you go?”

“Everywhere,” I grinned. “But I have a few places in mind.”

“You’ll change that mind a hundred times before you graduate.”

I looked out the window to the gradually crowding streets. “I’m sure.”

The ride lasted all of four minutes, and I hesitated as I gripped the handle before turning to thank him. Before I could get the words out, he spoke up.

“I want to take you out. Back at the bar I was going to ask but, one, you’re too fucking young for me, and, two, I didn’t want you to think I was making that deal to get in your pants.”

I gawked at him openly. “That was four minutes ago. What’s changed?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m only four minutes older.”

“Noted.”

“I just broke up with my boyfriend.”

His eyes dropped to my lips. “So that’s a no?”

“No. I don’t care that we broke up.”

He dropped his head with a laugh. “Wow.”

“I really don’t know how to explain it. He was a lead singer in a band and had the attention span of a gnat.”

“I think that sums it up well.” He leaned over, so our eyes locked. “Just to let you know, I fucking love that T-shirt.”

“I knew you did.”

We shared some heavy static and a smile as Paige and Reid walked out of the restaurant, heads turned and eyes trained on us.

“So, I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Sorry, I’m not dating. But I’ll see you in six months. Thanks for the ride, Nate.”

I jumped out of the car as Paige glared into it. Nate was already making a right turn by the time I looked back at two expectant faces. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. Itoldyou I had condoms.”

CHAPTER SIX

“Given to Fly”

Pearl Jam

I ran with the bulls in Mexico when I was five years old. It was my first real memory. My mother had taken us to Panotla to visit her family, and it was only miles outside of Tlaxcala where they held the annual bull run after the celebrations in honor of the Virgen de la Asunción, a colorful, flower-filled parade put on by the Catholic church, dedicated to the Virgin Mary.

Somehow in the excitement and the chaos of the crowd, my mother let go of my hand. It was a split-second decision on my part. A decision I recall making. I had similar clothes on to the ones who were running, and I wanted to be a part of it. I didn’t want to miss anything. So, instead of reaching for her hand, I ran. It might have been seconds or minutes, but I remember the exhilaration of seeing one of the large animals running through the mob in the distance. I could never forget the shrieks and terror-filled screams of those around me, but I wasn’t afraid. I was whisked away from the mob and held by a large woman with a death grip. She had a set of domino teeth and was adamant about scolding me until my parents finally reached us.