Autumn Storm (The Witchling #2)(12)

“Hi,” he said at last. His gaze swept over her form.

“You’re not Sonya,” she replied, flushing. She’d answered the door in her towel, assuming no one but Sonya would be knocking.

“I can be,” Beck offered with a grin.

Embarrassed, Autumn slammed the door. He knocked again.

“Just a minute!” she called. She changed with clumsy hands drew a breath then opened the door as calmly as she could manage. “Sorry.”

“No worries.” His smile was quick. “You ready?”

“Not yet. Aren’t you early?” she glanced towards the clock on her nightstand. She had a full twenty minutes before five.

“Amber said she thought she saw you leave with Adam and the other girls,” he said, shrugging. “Just double-checking.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Her face warmed again. “Obviously.”

“You sure? I mean, maybe –“

At the sarcastic tone, she closed the door on him again. What kind of person had the confidence to ask out a complete stranger after a two minute conversation anyway?

Another knock made her jump. She opened the door for a third time, ready to order him gone, and saw Sonya outside. The tall girl was dressed in dark, designer jeans and a snug sweater.

“Hey, Autumn,” she said, gaze on the screen of her smart phone. “Dawn ready?”

“Not quite,” Autumn replied. “She’s in the bathroom.”

“Omigod, she takes forever.”

Autumn closed the door. Sonya crossed to the bathroom door and beat on it then walked in. The two of them talked loudly, though their exact words weren’t discernible.

Chewing her lip, Autumn pushed herself away from the door and crossed to the brace on her bed. She debated not wearing it but decided she probably should, after the taxing walk this morning. She hated being forced to rely on it because her body was too weak to support itself. Going to her closet, she gazed at the clothing the orphanage had brought to the hospital. They’d claimed they were hers, but some of them still had tags.

She fingered one of the tags on a sweater she’d never worn. While she loved the clothes, they weren’t things she remembered picking. She could tell by the way they fit and material that they weren’t donations like the other orphans wore. Some of the tags themselves were leather on ribbons with brand names she’d never heard of.

They were way too nice. The colors were perfect for her complexion. Maybe someone at the hospital or orphanage took pity on her and bought her a new wardrobe after her accident. She couldn’t remember anyone who might’ve done that, and she instinctively knew she didn’t choose them.

It was probably the same person who paid for the hospital bill, since her case worker said the orphanage never could’ve afforded the long stay and would’ve yanked her out when the doctors said she was stable enough. The state definitely didn’t pay for the physical rehabilitation or psychotherapy, both of which occurred three times a week.

Autumn shook her head to clear the thoughts. She was no closer to uncovering her memories now than she was when she woke up in the hospital. She pulled the tags off one of the nicer sweaters – a maroon, cashmere turtleneck – and a pair of dark jeans she hadn’t worn yet, because they seemed too nice for everyday wear.

Tonight was different, though. Tonight warranted nice clothing. She changed out of the clothes she’d thrown on and into the sweater and jeans. Her make-up routine was simple, unlike Dawn’s forty five minutes, and she pulled on ankle-high boots.

Right at five, she stepped from the main house onto the porch. A sleek, black car idled in front of the porch. Beck was standing at the driver’s door, talking to Amber. His gaze was intent, his arms crossed. Amber didn’t look happy. Autumn waited. A few minutes passed before Amber stepped towards the porch.

Amber’s face lit up at the sight of her. “You going to the game?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s my date,” Beck called, winking.

“Remember the rules,” Amber returned.

“My intentions are noble, ma’am.”

Autumn’s face was hot from the exchange and Beck’s declaration. She hadn’t thought this a real date just a … maybe it was. Or maybe, he was doing what people at the orphanage had done and taken pity on the poor, beat-up blond girl. She hated that.

Amber hugged her before going to the porch door. Beck circled the car and opened the passenger side door. Autumn went and slid into the sporty car. Her eye caught on the BMW symbol on the steering wheel. She knew from Amber’s orientation that many of the students here were from wealthy families, but she was surprised someone who couldn’t be over eighteen drove such a nice car.

He climbed into the driver’s seat with a wave at Amber. He put the car into gear and drove down the driveway. The gravel crunched under the tires, limiting their ability to talk until they reached the road.

“Hot? Cold? Good enough?” Beck asked, motioning to the environmental controls.

“I’m fine,” she replied. She gazed at his profile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Where exactly are you taking me?”

He grinned. “It’s an hour drive to Newport, which is where our football team plays home games, since we don’t have our own stadium. My brother’s school is playing ours tonight. We’re kinda isolated at the school. Really sucks if you don’t have a car to get to the mall or anything.” Beck was upbeat and outgoing, the opposite of how she felt. Something about his attitude was contagious.