Keeping Me (Spy Chronicles Book 2)(9)

I don’t finish my sentence. I don’t have to.

“Maybe I will call her more often,” he says, loosening his grip on the steering wheel.

“Are we going through Texas?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he answers.

“So, let’s stop and see them.”

“We can’t. My parents aren’t in Texas anymore,” he says. “When I went to Spy School, my parents had to get new identities for their own safety. Truthfully, I’m not sure where they are. I asked them not to tell me.”

“Oh.”

That’s incredibly sad.

I kind of understand Bass a little bit more now. Though, really, who can understand this complicated boy?

“I’m surprised my dad sent me with you,” I tell him. “He’s convinced I’m going to run off and get married like he and my mom did.”

Sebastian starts coughing, like he had choked on something.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says, between coughs. “I don’t think your dad is worrying about you getting married. I think he’s worried that you’re going to get a boyfriend.”

“Um, then why did he send six boys to come rescue me in Florida?” I ask. “But, really, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. All those guys are just my friends. My first-ever friends. I’m kind of sad that I left without saying goodbye to them. I wish my dad understood that the guys are really just friends. I’m not attracted to them as more, you know?”

“I guess,” Bass says. “Maybe he’s worried about them being attracted to you.”

I laugh. “Yeah, right. I’m not pretty. I’ve seen the girls at Spy School, and they are all super gorgeous.”

“You’re so wrong.”

“About what?” I ask.

“All of it,” he answers. “You. The girls at school. Take your pick.”

Me?

“You think I’m pretty?” I ask, feeling a bit thrown off. Certainly he didn’t mean that. No, I must’ve heard him wrong.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice sounding nonchalant. Like he didn’t just tell me that I’m pretty. And maybe it’s not a big deal to him. But to me, it’s massive. Boys don’t call me pretty. Ever. So, this is huge.

“Thank you,” I tell him, looking down at my hands in my lap. “I, um... haven’t exactly been called pretty very much in my life. So it’s kind of...”

“A big deal?” he finished for me.

“Yeah,” I answer.

He sighs. “Now I feel like a complete jerk.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes I am. And you don’t deserve it. You’re such a nice girl,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Don’t worry about it, Bass. I like you. I’m glad you’re my friend. There’s not a lot you could do that would make me not want to be your friend. Even if you don’t consider me a friend, I definitely consider you one.”

“We can be friends,” Sebastian says. “But nothing more.”

“I never said anything about more,” I say quickly, not wanting him to think I’m into him like that.

Because I’m not.

Absolutely not.

Not even a little.

Like, never happening.

I think.

I mean, Bass is attractive. Like, possibly the most attractive male I’ve ever met.

Maybe it’s his dirty blond hair that’s always messy. Or his blue eyes that remind me of a cloudless, summer sky. Or maybe it’s his whole I don’t care attitude. Or… maybe it’s just him.

I could like Bass as more than a friend.

But I won’t.

I can’t.

After all, he did just say so.

“Good,” Sebastian says, after a moment of silence.

And it took me a few seconds to realize what he was saying good to.

“We can be friends, but nothing more.”

“I never said anything about more.”

“Good.”

My heart breaks just a little bit. But I quickly get over it because I have to.

Bass is right, we are good as friends. We can’t be more, because right now we have got to focus on surviving.

One day at a time.





Friday, August 25





On the road again.





I wake up to Sebastian shaking my shoulder.

It takes me a moment of looking around to realize where I am. Late last night, we stopped in New Mexico to stay the night.

“You okay?” Bass asks.

It’s then that I realize my face is wet.

Was I crying?

I wipe at my cheeks. “Sorry. I guess I was having a bad dream.”

He nods, looking a bit uncomfortable. “We need to get up and get on the road.”

“Okay,” I say, pushing myself up off the bed. Last night, we made a random pitstop somewhere in Arizona to pick up some clothes and a different car. Then we drove to a random motel in a small town in New Mexico. I got a quick shower when we stopped last night, because I felt so gross from the plane. This morning, when I step into the bathroom to put on my clothes, I frown when I see my reflection in the mirror. My hair is sticking up all over the place.