Kissing in Cars (Kiss and Make Up #1)(8)

And instead of being a gentleman, the swine Rick stands there and begins to feign a moaning sound, gyrating his hips and loudly groaning out "Oh yeah baby...give it to me," while my face is level with his crotch.

I have a strong urge to punch him in the balls.

Here's a million dollar question: how does this nimrod manage to get dates?

Rick has this bad-boy persona that has girls falling all over themselves to get close to him. In my opinion (and trust me on this one) he looks like Kevin's brother Buzz from Home Alone - you know, the chubby brother with the buzz hair cut? Yeah. When you think Rick Stevens, think Buzz.

If the guy wasn't a hockey player he could kiss his free ticket to, well...you know...goodbye.

Because at River Glen High School, hockey players far surpass everybody as royalty.

They are treated like teenage Gods.

"Oh come on," Rick laughs. It seems like he's laughing at himself, but he's actually laughing at me. I know exactly what he's thinking; that I'm a prude. My face has got to be bright red because I can feel it burning.

I look over at Weston.

He's watching the exchange intently, his mouth in a hard line but saying nothing.

Interesting.

I shift to get around Rick, but he blocks my path like the hockey defenseman that he is. "So listen, I was thinking. You. Me. Friday night." He is pointing back and forth in between our bodies.

"Rick, look, I'm really flattered..."

"Of course you are," he interrupts me.

"...but I'm not going out with you Friday. Or, um, ever." I actually whisper this last part because to be honest, I'm a little scared. Rick is an intimidating guy. Tall, maybe 5'10. Big and a tad chubby. Buzz haircut with sideburns, he has more of a sneer than a smile. Under his right eye is a fading bruise, and there's a cut on the bridge of his nose. I busy myself by rearranging the books re-stacked in my arms, and nod at him curtly.

End of discussion.

But clearly he isn't going to take 'no' for an answer.

"Friday doesn't work? What better offer could you possibly have?"

Gee, thanks *.

"I'm not going out with you. Sorry."

"I don't think I heard you correctly. Did - Wait. Are you turning me down?" Rick is practically shouting this last part. His eyebrows are pinching together slightly, confused. And yes, he's angry. I clutch my books tighter and look over at Weston, who has his eyes narrowed at Ricks' back. What the hell is his problem? Is he pissed that I just rejected his best friend? Whatever the reason is for the scowl, I can't look at him. I'm too embarrassed.

Humiliated even.

Scared too. I can feel the tears prickling behind my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I repeat, walking away before I start to cry. My heart is beating so fast. So fast. For so many reasons:

1. How often do I get asked on a date by a wildly popular guy at school? Um, hardly ever. Okay. More like never. The last time I checked, my last date was in the school marching band and didn't play a sport. But still, an * is an *, and I'm not dating one no matter how popular he is.

2. I've never actually told someone to their face I wasn't interested in dating them. Mostly just via text, or Jenna does the rejecting for me. I hope I never have to do it again. It's a horrible feeling.

3. I've never turned one guy down for a date, while the guy who makes my heart beat wildly watches from the side. That in itself could give a young girl a stroke.

Screw them both.





WESTON


"I know I've never been on a date with her, but anytime I see another guy talking to her, I wanna punch him in the face." - Cousin Jack (what not to do)



I turn towards Rick just as Molly rushes off down the hallway, resisting the impulse to chase after her... even thought I know it's the right thing to do. She was clearly upset and now I feel like a shithead for just standing there letting Rick act like an *. Right now, I feel like it may as well have been me demeaning her in public; which is exactly what I think Rick was doing.

I cannot stand being his friend.

The desire to go after her is immediately replaced by the urge to plant a facer on Rick - right here, right now - in the hallway at school. I clench and unclench my right fist, which hangs at my side and is my punching arm.

Rick lets out a loud satisfied sigh and says, "She'll come around eventually. They all do," He clamps his hand down onto my stiff, aching shoulder in an effort to be congenial.

"Don't f*cking touch me," I growl, shaking out of his grip.

"Dude, what the hell is your problem?" He grabs a Pop Tart from the box I keep in my locker for emergencies because - well - I'm always hungry. Rick proceeds to rip open the foil wrapper, making a ton of noise, than stuffs it in his mouth. "Man, you really need to get laid." As he chews my Pop Tart, crumbs fall from his mouth. Now I really want to pound the piss out of him.

"Couldn't you just leave off when she said she didn't want to go out with you? Christ you're pathetic." I snarl at him as I slam my locker shut with a loud bang that echoes in the corridor, and walk off leaving him gapping at me.





Chapter Five





MOLLY


"I am not the Jerk Whisperer. If I was, I'd write a book about it and make millions." - Tasha