The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories (154 page)

At least if the driver was some Ted Bundy wannabe, then I’d eventually get what I wanted.

“You’ll take me anywhere I want?”

He smiled and held a hand out to me. “Absolutely.”

I untangled one of my legs back around the inside of guardrail. “Even back here?”

“I’ll even block off the road so you can jump in peace.”

I wiped at my tears with my coat sleeve before climbing almost all of the way in. “A funny guy, huh?”

“Now that—” He extended his hand to touch my own. “—I have been called.”

I let my fingers rest in the palm of his hand, sort of startled that he pulled me so close to him so easily. Again, I wiped my tears and tried resisting saying something smart about not needing to jump if I had peace in the first place. It turned out to be easier than I thought. All my wit seemed to be flushed out by my tears, so I just watched while he gestured to the passenger side door. He studied me carefully while I slowly walked over, afraid still that I would change my mind and fling myself over at the last second.

My mind sort of faded out from there, aware but not registering him getting into the driver’s seat or making a joke about safety. In fact, it probably took a full two minutes before I felt him nudging at my seatbelt.

“Come on, you don’t want me getting a ticket, do you?”

I put it on just to keep him quiet.

The second I did, I felt the car shift and a sort of numbness settled into me. Stemming from my bones and expanding all the way out to my skin until I was completely anesthetized. I wanted to die; I should have died, but instead I was in a car. A stranger’s car. An extremely attractive stranger’s car. Any normal girl would have thought herself lucky.

Right then and there, however, I didn’t know just what to think or especially what to feel. Another prime example of all the things wrong with me. For a few minutes, I dwelled in the lack of sensation, feeling my way around the walls of it like a blind person might in a new room. I tasted the taste of nothing, looking at one blank canvas after another. But like a lot of addictive things, the relief that came with shock abandoned me—my tolerance for it seeming to be low. I think I cursed at myself, whether it was silently or out loud, I didn’t know.

Once the numbness went away, my senses came back in full throttle. Everything had that much more potency to it—not unlike, I thought, how much easier Mom would get drunk after a diet detox. I could smell the do-gooder’s cologne along with the leather of the seats; I could practically taste the dashboard cleaner and motor oil in my tongue; and the night looked darker while feeling brighter all at once.

I made a mental note on how much I enjoyed shock.

“So?”

I blinked hard, told myself to breathe, and repeated the process. The streets were passing by as quickly as they would if we were on a train car, and my brain didn’t accept the lights and sounds of the neighborhood. For some reason, however, I did process the changing lights of the sound system in the car, the speakers that vibrated, and how the dark leather of the seats seemed to be just the right temperature to combat the cold outside.

I shook my head. What was he
So
-ing me about again?

“
So
what?” I let go of the seatbelt because like the railing, I had not even been aware of how hard I was holding it.

As an alternative to pulling over and dumping me out like I had hoped, he gave me a snarky smile and shook his head. Like a stupid little girl, I marveled at how wonderful he continued to look when a piece of hair fell in his face. Did guys like him choreograph that sort of sexiness or what?

“What’s your name, Jumper?”

I scowled

“Fine,” he offered. “Then I’m just gonna call you Jumper.”

“Fine, I’m going to call you Do-gooder.”

As we passed under a streetlight, I saw him roll his eyes. “My name is Billy. Billy O’Reilly.”

“Really? I would have guessed ‘good-for-nothing-nosy-do-gooder.’”

He laughed. “That one must not have fit on the birth certificate.”

I continued to watch him as we drove into the fog, the streetlights above cutting a pathway. At least I hadn’t gotten stuck with a busybody who didn’t have a sense of humor.

Chapter 2

When we finally came to a stop, it took me more than a minute to realize the alleyway we emerged from was actually the end of McKinley Street. Even then, I only recognized it from the remainder of the fence that bordered the old playground. I had heard rumors about how everything in the neighborhood had been destroyed by poverty and lack of care. And sure enough, the swing sets I had played on a time or two during my childhood had been taken out, and the slides were littered with graffiti and what looked like broken glass. I could see how weeds and garbage had overtaken the walkways, the sandbox completely gone.

In the playground’s parking lot, however, cars filled every space, spilling out into the street and the overgrown soccer field. The light of a fire burning in a barrel caught my eye, and I flinched like the sight alone burned me. Why I did this, I wasn’t sure but didn’t bother to ask.

“What is this?”

“The convoy,” he said.

Do-gooder turned off the headlights as we drove up, which didn’t seem to be a big deal since other people in “the convoy” had their lights on, and they were just as bright as Do-gooder’s were. I pressed my cheek against the window and let the cold seep in. I could barely keep my tired eyes pried open, despite the extraordinary vehicles around us.

Painted in bright neons, pinks, blues, reds, and every other color of the rainbow, I could have possibly imagined some of the cars were ramped up on large tires, while others had lights around the tires and grills, under the body and what looked like the insides of the doors. With side-opening doors, hydraulic fronts, and fire roaring from their pistons, the other cars looked positively violent.

I wanted to ask more questions, a million and one questions. But before I could, a guy in a faux leather jacket came over to the driver’s side window. While he didn’t seem surprised to see me, I flinched again before I could stop myself. It was as though, since I had already prepared myself for death, my body had, too. I was just readjusting to seeing another human being—groups of people were out of the question.

“Where have you been, Billy? We’re about to leave.”

“My bad.” Do-gooder shrugged. “I had to make a pit-stop.”

“Uh-huh. I see that.” The guy with the leather jacket looked me up and down before wiggling his eyebrows. “Hello there.”

I ignored him and put my forehead back up against the window. Girls in tight mini-skirts tried to get warm by pushing themselves up against cars and what I guessed were their drivers. If the girls were trying to get the drivers’ attentions away from the cars, it only seemed to work about half the time.

“Damn, Billy. You gotta turn the heat on in here.” His friend laughed after imitating a shiver. Do-gooder didn’t.

I turned my head back to Do-gooder and his friend, feeling a slight sense of awe that his good looks hadn’t worn off yet. Even when I saw an attractive actor on TV, it usually wore off within the first ten minutes of bad acting. Maybe, I hoped, I could blame this on my almost near-death experience.

“Jumper, this is Cosmo. Cosmo, this is Jumper. Watch out, Jumper, because while you might be a walking crime, Cosmo here is a walking VD.”

I rolled my eyes at the lame joke. “Are you an advocate for abstinence, too, Do-gooder?”

Because I mumbled, Cosmo didn’t hear me, and only Do-gooder laughed. Still, I was surprised that he did—surprised that he responded to me at all.

“On the contrary, Jumper I’m a safe sex advocate.” In the dark, I looked over to see him smile at me. “I believe in doing things the right way.”

Despite almost being dead, I blushed.

A high-pitched whistle interrupted a conversation that was well on its way to being lurid. I was incredibly grateful for the distraction, too, until I looked up to see two particularly pretty girls waving at Do-gooder with their slim fingers and long fingernails. Instead of waving back, Do-gooder sighed and tapped the speedometer.

“Hey there, ladies.” Cosmo waved at them playfully, but they only laughed and tromped away.

“Hell, Billy, if you don’t want them, I’ll take them.”

“I don’t think they’re
his
to give.” I tugged on my seatbelt and watched the pretty girls walk away. With their sparkly jewelry and big hair, I thought maybe they looked like the girls Mom wanted me to be—the child she couldn’t make me no matter how many trips to the mall she had all but forced on me.

Do-gooder looked at me and smiled. “You heard the lady, Cosmo. Now are we going or what? I gotta burn some rubber.”

“Bad condom jokes? You really are passionate about your cause.” I unbuckled my seatbelt. If something illegal was happening, the last thing this guy was worried about was a ticket for safety, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to sacrifice my comfort to save him a fifty-dollar fine.

“I’m passionate about a lot of things, Jumper.” He chuckled softly.

My face did something funny then, twitching at the lips and going up just a little until the muscles started to hurt from lack of use.

Once I realized I was smiling, I stopped instantly.

Before any more inappropriate jokes could be exchanged, someone less interesting- looking stepped out in front of a set of headlights. The only real noticeable thing about him was the flashlight he carried and how he waved into the crowd. And while it was insignificant to me, the signals had every set of headlights on and engines roaring almost simultaneously. Given what Cosmo said next, I guess I must have flinched in my seat.

“I see where she gets the name from.” Cosmo laughed. “I’ll see you guys there?”

Though it was only quickly, I felt Do-gooder’s eyes glance at me—the response to his friend seeming to be just as quick. “Definitely.”

I watched with a strange feeling of what I could only call interest while Do-gooder and his friend exchanged something between a fist bump and a high five. A second later, Cosmo ran off into the roar of engines. For how strange my last night on Earth had been, he could have disappeared into a puff of smoke for all I knew.

“Seatbelt.” Do-gooder didn’t even look at me when he said it, the feel of our own engine startling me again as we took off.

Obeying, I put the seatbelt back on and kept my complaints to myself. I figured if he was taking me back to the overpass the least I could do was keep my grumbling. Except, as we pulled off the road we didn’t turn left the way we had come but turned right, falling in line with the rest of the convoy of tricked out cars and trucks.

“I thought you said you’d take me back.”

“Yeah.” Even when being condensing, the sound of his voice was pleasant. “After you hang out with us.” Do-gooder’s grinning reflection stared back at me from the windshield. “Oh, did you think that was it?” he laughed like I was an idiot, making him no less attractive, but twice as annoying. “No, that was just inspection. We were lucky to make that when we did.”

As much as I enjoyed his voice, the way it had bartered a reprieve for my life—however brief that reprieve might have been—it didn’t give Do-gooder a license to talk to me like I was a kid, some dunce who needed to be talked down to.

It didn’t, did it?

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a moron.” I gritted my teeth together hoping if I did it hard enough, I could grind my entire skull to powder. “I’m not a moron.”

He looked at me like he was trying to decide something. Without his expression changing the Do-gooder stared back at the road. “I don’t think you’re a moron, Jumper.”

I crossed my arms over myself and sighed. “Stop calling me
that
.”

“Stop calling me Do-gooder.”

“What then?” Though I tried to keep my tone just as cynical, his perpetual smile told me I had failed. “Should I call you William? Or is Billy short for Lillian? Or are you a Willow?” My eyes looked him up and down like I was buying a new car. And yes, even then, I knew it was cheap shot—my lame attempt to emasculate him via his name. Still, I was too tired to be more creative than that. Considering I hadn’t had a real verbal sparring partner in a long time I gave myself a pat on the back.

“William.” He sighed. “If you really wanna rebel Jumper, I guess you can call me that.”

“Rebel? What makes it so bad-ass to call you William?”

He shrugged back, forcing his muscular shoulders into the leather of his seat. “I just don’t like it is all. To most other racers, I’m Billy the Kid.”

Racing
. So that explained the lights and the tricked out cars and even the girls. Silently, I cursed at myself for not thinking of it earlier. Immediately, I went to questioning this new information. When it came to illegal drag racing, the police were cracking down everywhere, had been over the last few months as far as I understood. Regardless, I didn’t think anybody did that sort of thing anymore. What possible profit could there be in drag racing? Sure legally there were sponsors. But what was the point in doing it illegally? Especially after investing so much money in an impractical car?

Admittedly, movies and the local newspaper were the only reason I knew what little I did know about illegal racing. Between them, rap music, planning montages and pictures of totaled cars, I thought I had a pretty good idea of what street racing was

What I had seen and heard, even then, was so different from all of that, that if I had the will or energy to care, I would have gladly asked him. An easier alternative to me seemed better to keep right on teasing him.

“Do they call you that because you’re small like a kid or because you’re like a goat?”

Staring ahead William erupted into a laugh. “Well it’s not because I’m
small
.”

I looked away when I heard him laugh louder. I couldn’t decide if I liked the sound or not, maybe it would have sounded different if I was happy—sane. Maybe, if I was the flirt I had once been accused of being, I would have said something else clever, as it was though, I couldn’t.