Lying Out Loud(40)



“Fine,” I said. “My car just sucks.”

He turned the Honda onto the shoulder, just a few yards in front of my car, making room for other cars to speed past us. Then he and the brunette both climbed out and started walking toward me.

I stiffened, thinking that this was exactly how every horror movie began and hoping that Amy would avenge my murder, regardless of the weirdness between us at the moment, but then I realized we were on a busy highway in broad daylight and any smarter serial-killing team would not be so careless.

“Sorry,” the brunette said, noticing the uneasy look on my face. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but I couldn’t place it. “Nathan here has a Good Samaritan complex. We promise we’re not going to, like, kidnap you.”

“That’s just what any good kidnapper would say,” I pointed out.

The girl, who was wearing a University of Kentucky sweatshirt, snorted, and her blue eyes twinkled just a bit.

“It’s not a Good Samaritan complex,” Nathan argued. “It’s called being a decent person. Try it sometime.”

“I’ll pass. Thanks.”

They stared at each other for a moment, both smiling, and suddenly I felt as though I was intruding on something. Worried they might start mauling each other in front of me, there on the side of the road, I cleared my throat.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. Just a craptastic car. My friends are on the way.”

“See. She doesn’t want our help,” the girl said. “Let’s leave her alone. I’m freezing.”

“Does the heat work in your car?” Nathan asked me. “Do you want to wait in our car with us?”

“Oh, I don’t —”

“I was trying to convince her that we weren’t trying to kidnap her,” the girl said. “You’re not helping my case here.”

Nathan laughed. “Sorry. Whitley’s right. We aren’t trying to kidnap you.”

“Wait,” I said, looking at the brunette. And suddenly I realized why she looked so familiar. “Whitley? Whitley Johnson? You’re Greg Johnson’s daughter?”

Whitley stiffened a little. “Yeah.”

“Oh my God,” I said. “Okay, I swear, I’m not usually a squealing fangirl, but your father is amazing.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“He paid for my gas once.”

Whitley met this comment with the same lack of enthusiasm I had received from Ryder. She just gave a vague, placating smile, and I realized what an idiot I sounded like.

Nonetheless, I was suddenly way more willing to wait in their car until Bianca and Wesley arrived.

The three of us climbed into the Honda, me sliding into the backseat, and Nathan cranked up the heat. I listened with curiosity as he and Whitley talked about other things — school, plans for the weekend, some awkward family Christmas drama — only then remembering that these two were not only a couple but stepsiblings.

That had really gotten the rumor mill stirred up a few years ago, shortly after Greg Johnson moved to Hamilton. His daughter, Whitley, already had a reputation for being a party animal, but the gossip only got worse when she started dating her stepmother’s son. Talk around town had mostly faded after the two went off to college, but sometimes flared up again when Whitley and Nathan were back for school breaks.

This was my first time meeting either of them in person, and I was fascinated by how a relationship like that would work.

I also wondered if my love life was more or less screwed up than theirs.

Probably more.

“Are those your friends?” Nathan asked as a Porsche eased onto the side of the road, right behind Gert.

“Yeah,” I said, though I was mildly disappointed to be ejected from this riveting couple’s presence.

I hopped out of the Honda and saw Wesley and Bianca approaching. Whitley and Nathan spotted them, too, and to my surprise, they also climbed out of the car.

“Hey,” Nathan said, beaming.

“Hey.” Wesley grinned. “Long time no see.”

“You guys know each other?” I asked.

“Sort of,” Bianca said. She and Whitley gave each other a polite nod.

“Whitley here stole my best friend,” Wesley explained. “How is Harrison, anyway? I haven’t heard from him in ages.”

“That’s because he has a new boyfriend,” Whitley said. “He’s spending Christmas in Los Angeles with Antonio. I’d be mad at him for it, but they’re disgustingly cute together.”

“Good for him,” Wesley said. “Bianca and I were talking about going out to visit him if he doesn’t come home this summer.”

They kept talking until Bianca noticed me standing there shivering and cleared her throat.

“Well, we just came to pick up the stray.” She jabbed a thumb at me. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her.”

“I’m not a puppy,” I said.

“We discussed kidnapping her,” Whitley said. “Just so you know.”

“Glad you didn’t,” Wesley said. “Then I’d have to find my sister a new best friend, and those can take forever to housebreak.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ha-ha.”

Whitley and Nathan said good-bye and climbed into their car, then Wesley, Bianca, and I headed back over to Gert.

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