The Wrong Path_Smashwords (6 page)

“Go,” Annabelle said quickly, turning back to offer a smile. “I’ll go back to the party, too. Find Claire and the others.”

Trevor looked torn, but he finally took her arm through the fabric of Will’s shirt and led her back to the group, following Marcus to a circle that had gathered. Trevor released her hesitantly and cut through the group, disappearing into the middle. Annabelle stood on the edge, clapping her hands together to try and get the dirt off. It was a futile effort, so after a moment, she turned and headed to the lake. She didn’t really want to be around anyone right now, anyway. Especially Trevor. Not until she was able to forget about everything that had happened.

She scrubbed her hands together in the water and was trying to shake them dry when the music suddenly stopped. She looked up, startled at the silence.

All at once, everyone seemed to hear the noise in the distance. Sirens. The crowd immediately broke up, people fleeing to their cars. Annabelle looked around wildly for her friends or for Trevor as she rushed back up, but in the flurry of activity, she could see nothing.

A hand grabbed her wet one, dragging her through the stampeding students. “Will?” she asked, bewildered, recognizing the white t-shirt clad back.

He unlocked the doors to his black convertible with his keyless entry and yanked the passenger door open. “Get in,” he urged quickly.

She did, feeling lost, even as he hurried to the driver’s side and jumped in behind the wheel. He gunned the engine and to her horror, cut through the cars all trying to get out on the small road at once. She screamed as he barely slid in-between two cars, covering her face with her hands even as she was tossed around the tiny two-door car. She reached quickly for the seat belt and snapped it on, a mixture of drug-induced and real adrenaline and fear coursing through her veins.

Once they were out on the open road, and the sound of sirens could no longer be heard, he reached into the backseat and produced an unopened bottle of water. “Drink this,” he said, handing it to her.

She looked down at it, frowning. “Why?” she asked, the idea of water making her stomach turn.

He glanced over at her. “And drink about five or six more before you go to bed. You need to rehydrate yourself.”

He didn’t need to say anymore. She flushed and dutifully twisted the top off of the bottle, forcing herself to drink it down even when her stomach protested.

He pulled up to a stoplight and slid his cell phone out of his pocket, texting someone. She waited until he was done before she finally spoke again. “Thank you for getting me out of there,” she said, feeling strangely shy. It seemed like such a trivial thing to say, but she couldn’t figure out any other words that would convey her gratitude.

He looked over at her, offering her a gentle smile. “You’re welcome.”

He turned the music up, and they drove without speaking. Annabelle closed her eyes as she leaned back against the seat, the cool air from the open window a relief against her hot skin. She didn’t know how long they drove, but suddenly the music quieted and the car stopped. She opened her eyes and sat up, surprised to see they were in the parking lot of a diner. She looked over at Will in confusion, gasping when her door was suddenly yanked open and a relieved-looking Trevor crouched in the open doorway.

“Thank god you got out of there okay,” he said, relieved. “I was so scared you’d been caught.”

Annabelle gaped at him, then turned to Will, who arched an eyebrow at her. “Will’s taxi service ends here,” he told her, then grinned wickedly. “Unless you’d like to go somewhere private…?”

Annabelle flushed and quickly clamored for her seat belt, all-but falling out of the car in her haste to get away. She hesitated outside the car, then leaned down to look in at him. A mischievous smile curled his lips, a dark look in his eyes. “Thank you again for finding me and getting me out of there,” she said. She started to close the door, but as her mind whirled with the night’s events, she realized Will had done a lot more than saved her from getting caught by the police. She leaned back into the car and looked at him. His smile was gone, his eyes flashing as he looked back at her. “And for protecting me,” she said hesitantly. “When you figured out that I was… Not me.”

An impish grin curled up his lips. “Anytime you need protecting, you come find me, Belle,” he told her, winking. “I’ll take care of you.”

She closed the door on her blush, turning to look up at Trevor, who had concern etched all over his features.

“You didn’t need to come get me,” she told him, feeling self-conscious after everything that had happened that night. “I could have called Claire and asked her to come get me.”

He smiled lopsidedly. “I like to make sure my dates get to their final destination safely,” he told her, looking embarrassed. “So, do you want a ride to Claire’s?”

She nodded gratefully, and followed him to his car, climbing in carefully. She was still wearing Will’s shirt, so she wasn’t very worried about flashing Trevor as she got in, but the last thing she needed was to catch her heels on the edge of the door and fall back on the cement.

“How’s Zach?” she asked quietly, through the stillness in the air as he drove.

He sighed. “He’s okay. Few bruises and a few cuts, but he’ll live. I guess he and Cody were fighting over Claudia.”

She would love that. Annabelle tried not to sigh. As far as she knew, Claudia wasn’t interested in either one of them. She had her eye on some college boy, at least for the moment. “That’s too bad,” she murmured. “Tell him I hope he gets better soon?”

He smiled over at her as he stopped at a red light. “Sure. Thanks.”

She nodded, twisting her hands in her lap to try and contain the restlessness in her muscles. She just wanted to throw out her arms and shake them. Oddly enough, she missed Will’s furious and frantic whirlwind driving. It seemed to calm her tense muscles.

As he pulled up to Claire’s house, Trevor suddenly killed the lights. She looked over at him with a pounding heart. “Annabelle,” he started slowly, looking adorably nervous. “I… I know now might not be the best time, but… if you wanted to go out sometime… Maybe to a movie or something… I’d really like to take you.”

She felt like her heart had fallen into her stomach as she stared at him in disbelief. After everything that had happened that night, he still wanted to take her out on a date? Trevor had to be the nicest guy in the entire world. Possibly the most perfect guy in the entire universe. And he wanted to take her out on a date!

Realizing his nervousness, she quickly blurted out, “I’d love to!”

A relieved grin spread across his face. “Great,” he said. “Maybe I could stop by tomorrow and we could talk about when and where?”

“Yes,” she agreed immediately, hardly able to contain her excitement. She bit her lip on her smile, reluctantly bidding him goodnight. She knocked on Claire’s front door and waited anxiously for her friend to open it. Just as she pulled out her cell phone to give Claire a call, the door swung open. Claire stared at her blankly for a moment, and then stepped back, allowing Annabelle access to the house. Annabelle waved goodbye to Trevor, still waiting in the car. He waved back and pulled away from the curb, driving off.

Annabelle braced herself for Claire’s anger, but the blonde’s features had shifted into a satisfied smirk. “Take it things went well?” she asked impishly.

She knew what Claire meant, but she tried to play dumb. “He asked if he could take me to see a movie sometime.”

Claire grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Of course he did,” she confirmed. “He’d have to be an idiot not to see how amazing you are.”

Annabelle flashed an embarrassed smile. “I’m glad you guys got out okay,” Annabelle told her. “I was worried. I couldn’t find you.”

“Oh, we were fine,” Claire assured her. “Claudia and Zach are upstairs in one of the guest rooms. You can sleep in any of the open ones. I need to get back to… my guest.”

Annabelle felt sick at the implication, but she reminded herself that beggars couldn’t be choosers. She climbed the steps behind Claire, who wiggled her fingers goodbye as she went into her bedroom and shut the door. Annabelle turned down the hall to the guest rooms, chose an open door at the end of the hall and went in, shutting it behind her.

Chapter Four

Annabelle put the bookmark in her book when she heard the knock on her door. “Come in,” she called.

Her mother’s head poked in, a smile curling her lips. “Trevor is here,” she said. “He’s waiting in the game room.”

Annabelle all-but leapt up from her bed. “How do I look?” she asked quietly, hurriedly, even as she leaned down to look at herself in the vanity. She had felt terrible all day after her horrible night—depressed, irritable, and cranky—and hadn’t bothered getting dressed. She yanked her hair out of her ponytail, shaking it out, and looked down at her jeans and t-shirt. She dashed over to her drawers and quickly pulled out a tighter, cuter top, tossing her t-shirt aside. She pulled the new shirt on over her head and presented herself desperately to her mother.

“You’re beautiful,” Susan assured her. Annabelle smiled at her, then quickly hurried down the stairs, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to slow down as she entered the game room.

“Hi,” Annabelle greeted breathlessly. Trevor turned from studying one of the pictures on the wall to face her, looking startled. Then his face broke out into the warm, friendly grin that she loved.

“Hi,” he returned, stepping toward her. He paused, lowering his voice. “How’re you feeling?”

She smiled weakly, embarrassed. “I’m… okay. Humiliated, but okay.” She gestured to the couch and he sat down. She followed suit, giddy at the close proximity of him. “I want to thank you so much for looking out for me last night.”

He immediately shook his head. “I didn’t do anything. You did good taking care of yourself.”

She knew it wasn’t true, but she was grateful to him for saying so. She fidgeted nervously, then picked up the remote to the TV. “Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked. “Or we could play pool.” She gestured to the pool table behind them.

He grinned. “Sure. Are you a pool shark?”

She laughed. “Not at all. I’m pretty terrible, actually.” She stood and led the way to the wall of pool cues, selected one, and went to go rack up the balls while he selected a cue stick.

“Do you want some music?” she asked, all-too-aware of the silence.

He looked around, then joined her at the table. “Why don’t I do that?” he suggested, picking up one of the balls to illustrate his point. “You can set up the music.”

She smiled, trying to hold her pleasure in, and nodded, picking up the remote for the stereo from the coffee table. She scanned through the stations until she found the one that had playing in his car the night before, and light jazz music filtered through the speakers.

“You like jazz?” he asked, sounding so delighted that she couldn’t stop herself from lying.

“Yeah,” she agreed, hoping she could fake her interest. “Do you?”

He looked excited. “I love it,” he declared happily. “Most people our age just don’t get how amazing it is. But it’s so full of emotion.”

“That’s the best part,” she echoed, silently reminding herself to go look up jazz music as soon as he was gone.

He finished racking up the balls and stepped back. “You want to break?” he asked cheerfully.

“No, thanks. I’m horrible at it,” she laughed.

“Well no making fun of me if I’m terrible,” he warned.

“Promise,” she agreed, grinning. She stood at the side of the table as he broke, sending the balls flying everywhere. “What was that about a shark?” she laughed, delighted at his skill at the pool table.

“Lucky shot,” he assured her.

She laughed, and at the end of the game, she had barely managed to win. “Did you let me win?” she accused laughingly, as he set up the balls again.

“No way,” he admonished, grinning boyishly. “I would never do that.”

“You did!” she cried. “No going easy on me!”

“Okay,” he warned teasingly. “Just you wait. I’m going to clear the table.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she declared, then laughed.

He really had gone easy on her the first game. In the second one he slaughtered her. Once tied, he suggested they leave it at that, and she laughingly agreed. Together they dropped down onto the couch, and with the soft jazz music filtering through the speakers, she couldn’t help but think if only her parents weren’t home, it would be a perfect time for him to kiss her.

“So… next Friday... I thought, if you’d like, we could go see a movie?” he asked, sounding almost as nervous as she felt.

“Yes,” she agreed, trying to contain her happiness. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” he said, looking relieved. He shot her a blank look. “Do you have any idea what’s playing?”

She burst out laughing, charmed at how adorable he was. “No. Hang on a second. I’ll grab a paper.” She practically skipped down the hall to the dining room where her father always set the paper after his morning coffee, retrieved the entertainment section, and headed back to the game room.

Together they scoured it, Annabelle trying to keep herself from gushing or swooning as they leaned in over the paper together. He suggested a romantic comedy that had just come out, and she agreed immediately, pleased he had chosen a movie that was clearly for her interest.