Chapter 11: Lies And More Lies

I nod and try not to blurt out something stupid. The first time I met him, my anxiety was on high alert...or maybe I was too preoccupied to notice he was anything more than just a cute guy. But now, with him sitting so close, looking at me with those ridiculous brown eyes, I'm starting to feel uncomfortable. So I do what any apprehensive, eighteen-year-old girl sitting in a car next a hot guy would do. Absolutely nothing. I just sit, waiting for him to start talking, hoping the awkward moment will pass.

"So, where do you live?" he asks, dropping his gaze down to my lips.

"We." I pause, trying to ignore the fact that he's looking at my mouth. "My mom and I just moved here. We haven't found a house yet, so we're staying at the Nantucket apartments."

Which is my standard answer, the "looking for a house" part. It feels less pathetic than admitting we'll probably never live in a house again. I hadn't noticed until now that I look at my hands when I lie. I glance back up and he's still smiling. Maybe he bought it?

Brad reaches for the radio, turning up the volume, and the awkwardness melts away with the music.

Maybe he could feel it too?

I instantly close my eyes, mentally singing every word to an Erasure song. Nobody knows I love to sing. Not even Mom. At my last school, I tried out for the concert choir and made it. But Mom had different plans and yanked me out of that school, too. It sucked because the music director said I showed a lot of potential. Apparently I have perfect pitch. He even said I could probably work up to doing solos. For once, I was excited about going to a new school, but when we moved here, I didn't even ask Mrs. Stephens if they had a choir. I couldn't risk having to leave something I loved so much again. So I only signed up for the exact courses I needed to graduate and nothing more.

I open my eyes, slightly embarrassed that I got lost in the song for a moment and look over at Brad. He's smiling and looking right at me.

"You're a great singer."

"I was humming. How'd you hear me over the music?"

"I'm a good listener." He grins and I shake my head, smiling back at him.

And just like that, I'm right back to being uncomfortable. It doesn't help that I've only dated a couple of guys and neither of them amounted to more than a few dates and a kiss here or there. I don't get that kind of inexperienced vibe from Brad. He's definitely way more confident than me and I can tell he's had his fair share of girlfriends.

A distant bell rings and I immediately reach for the door handle when Brad touches my arm.

"It's only the first bell. We have some time."

"Okay," I say, trying to refocus. I don't know what to say next, but figure I should talk about something harmless.

"I like your car." I glance over to him and smile, rubbing the leather seat with my fingers.

"Thanks. It was my dad's. He was about to trade it in but I begged him to give it to me instead. My mom thought it was a bad idea though." He smiles as if reliving the moment.

"Is it your first car?"

"No, I had an old beat up Nova that was on its last leg. So really, I needed something right away."

"Well, that was lucky," I say, glancing back up at him when he turns to face me.

"Yeah, that's what my mom keeps telling me."

"I hope it's not running out. You were practically rear-ended by a truck just now."

He laughs. "That was Nick. He's a good guy, but kind of an asshole." He touches my hand, and I look up to his smile. "Besides, my chivalry is without limits."

Laughing louder than I should, I look over at his now serious face, swallowing the golf ball-sized lump in my throat.

"Oh, God, you were serious?" I manage.

He leans in closer, only inches from my face as he gently squeezes my fingers. Even though I'm not looking up at him, his gaze practically devours me. My stomach tightens as if a thousand butterflies are at war.

Yeah, he's light years ahead of me with experience.

"If you ever need a ride, just call me," he says, letting go of my hand as he opens the glove box and takes out a pen. His arm then reaches behind the seat, pulling a notebook from his backpack. He rips off a corner of paper, quickly writes something down, and hands it to me.

"And yes, I am serious. Here's my number."

"Thanks." I glance down, folding it twice before shoving it in my pocket. "But I really do like to walk."

Lord, even his handwriting is sexy.

This is not what I'd planned. It feels like my world is starting to spin out of control because just sitting here next to him is making me doubt every rule I set for myself before we got here. I've only known him for two days and I already know he deserves better than this, better than me. He could have any girl in school-he doesn't need some loser with a crazy mother who'll probably be gone by Christmas. Just thinking about moving again makes me want to cry.

I turn slightly in my seat, facing away from him, and close my eyes, hoping he doesn't think I'm some kind of head case.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

"I hope you're not just feeling sorry for me," I blurt out without thinking. I can't look at him because I can feel him staring at me.

"Is that what you think?" He pauses for a second then says, "You want the truth?"

I look straight at him because in my world, honesty is rare.

"You fascinate me," he admits, still keeping his eyes focused on me.

"Oh" is all I manage to say as I continue looking out the window. What the hell does that mean?

He goes on, his voice softening. "And before you think too much about it, it's a good thing." He squeezes my hand again. "Okay?"

I turn to look at him again and his brows rise. He's waiting for me to say something.

"Okay," I answer, watching his face light up into a smile.

After a few seconds, he interrupts the clumsy silence. "C'mon, I'll walk you to first period."

There is a God.

He gets out of the car and I linger a few more seconds, hoping he doesn't notice that I'm studying him from the corner of my eye. He makes me nervous, but in a good way. I have no idea what I'm going to do with him so I suck in a breath and let it out just before he opens my door. He leans in with another sexy grin.

"I mean it, Candice. You can call me anytime. And not just for rides."