As usual, school is a relief. I ran almost all the way to my truck: there were so many people here that I wanted to escape. In this accident, my truck suffered very little damage. I just need to replace the taillights, and even if I do have some paint work to do, I've got it done. Moore's parents had to sell their truck for scrap.

When I turned the corner and saw a tall, swarthy figure leaning against my truck, I almost stopped filming in fright. Then I realized it was just Ike. I continued to walk over.

"Hi, Ike." I greeted.

"Hi, Imia."

"What's wrong?" I asked as I unlocked the car. I didn't notice that there was something odd about his voice, so what he said next surprised me.

"Well, I was just thinking...... Would you like to go to the Spring Ball with me? His voice came to an abrupt halt at the last word.

"I guess it's a girls' budding ball, right?" I said, too surprised to speak more tactfully.

"Well, yes." He confessed ashamedly.

I regained my composure and tried to smile more gently. "Thank you for having me, but I'm going to Seattle that day."

"Oh," he said. "Alright then, maybe next time."

"Okay." I agreed, and bit my lip. I don't want him to take my words literally.

He walked away listlessly and headed towards the school. I heard a low sneer.

Roger was walking past my car, his eyes staring straight ahead, his lips tightly closed. I slammed the car door, jumped into the car, and slammed the door behind me shut. I started the engine, made a deafening roar, and reversed the car out of the driveway. Two parking spaces away from me, Roger was already sitting in the car. He drove smoothly in front of my car, blocking my way. He stopped there - waiting for his family. I could see that the four of them were still walking on the road before they reached the cafeteria. I would have liked to hit the gas pedal and hit his shiny silver Volvo, but there were too many witnesses. I looked in the rearview mirror, and behind my car, a long line of cars was forming. The first car behind me was a second-hand Centra that Moore had just gotten, and he was sitting in the car waving to me. I was so angry that I didn't have time to say hello to him.

As I sat in the car and looked around, just not looking at the car in front of me, I heard someone knocking on the window of the passenger seat. I looked, it was Moore. I glanced in the rearview mirror in confusion. His car didn't turn off, and the left door was open. I leaned over to the other side of the cab and rolled the window down. The window is stuck. I struggled to shake it halfway down and gave up.

"I'm sorry, Moore, I'm stuck behind Wright." I was angry - it was clear that the traffic jam was not my fault.

"Oh, I know—I just wanted to ask you something while we're stuck here." He grinned.

None of this should have happened.

"Will you invite me to the Spring Ball?" He continued.

"I wasn't in town then, Moore." My voice sounded a little sharp. I have to remember that it wasn't his fault, but Jack and Ike had exhausted all of my patience for today's share.

"Yes, Jack said it." He admitted.

"Then why-"

He shrugged. "I thought it was just an excuse you used to make him less disappointed."

Well, it's all his fault.

"I'm sorry, Moore." I said, trying to keep my anger to myself. "I'm really going out of town."

"It doesn't matter. We also have formal balls. ”

Before I could respond, he was walking back to his car. I could feel the shock on my face. I looked ahead and saw that Milani, Alice, Dyson and Eckas were already in that Volvo. In the rearview mirror of that car, Roger was staring at me. No doubt he was laughing as if he had heard every word Moore said. My feet are on the throttle...... A small impact wouldn't hurt any of them, it just meant painting the shiny silver Volvo flat. I started the engine.

But as soon as they were all in the car, Roger sped away from the car. I could only drive home slowly, cautiously, and curse to myself in a low voice along the way.

When I got home, I decided to have a bursadilla for dinner. It takes a lot of time and keeps me busy. The phone rang as I simmered the onion and red pepper over low heat to make a sauce. I didn't dare answer the phone, but it could have been a call from Chuck or my mom.

The call was made by Mary, who was in high spirits: Chuck stopped her after school and agreed to her invitation. I stirred the sauce in the pan and congratulated her briefly. She's going to hang up, and she's going to have to call Reilis and Maysa to tell them the good news. I pretended not to know and suggested that the quiet Reilis who was in biology class with me could invite Ike, and that Mesha, the cold girl who always ignored me at the lunch table, could ask Moore, and I heard he hadn't made an appointment yet. Mary thought it was a good idea. Now that she's sure she's going with Jack, her voice sounds much more sincere when she says she really wants me to go to the prom. I dismissed her as usual under the pretext that I was going to Seattle.

Once I hung up, I began to try to concentrate on preparing dinner – especially when it came to dicing the chicken. I don't want to go back on another trip to the ER. But my mind was still jumbled, trying to analyze every word Roger said today. "We'd better not be friends," what did he mean by that?

My stomach twitched when I realized what he was hinting at. He must have seen it, and I was deeply attracted to him. He didn't want to cheat on my feelings...... So we'd better not even be friends...... Because he wasn't interested in me at all.

Of course, he wouldn't have any interest in me, I thought angrily. My eyes flickered - only a little later, a reaction to the onion. I'm really boring. But he's not. Interesting...... Talented...... Mysterious...... Perfect...... Handsome...... You may also be able to lift a standard model truck with one hand.

Good, good. I can not bother him. I didn't want to bother him at all. I'll serve the prison sentence I've given myself here, and then I'll hope that some university in the Southwest, maybe the University of Hawaii, will offer me a scholarship. As I finished the chicken empanadas and put them in the pot, I struggled to think about the sunny beaches and palm trees.

When Chuck comes home and smells the green peppers, he seems a little confused. I don't blame him - the closest restaurant to eat Mexican food is probably in San Francisco. But he's a cop, even if it's just a small-town cop, and he's brave enough to take the first bite. He seemed to like the taste. It's interesting to watch him gradually start to trust my cooking skills.

"Daddy?" I asked as he was almost done.

"What's wrong, Imia?"

"Well, I just wanted you to know that I'm going to Seattle next Saturday...... And if you could? "I wasn't going to ask for his permission—it would be a bad precedent—but I thought it was a bit rude, so I ended up making up for it.

"Why?" He seemed surprised, like he couldn't imagine anything he couldn't find in Vidonia.

"Well, I'm just going to buy some books - the library stock here is too limited - maybe a few more clothes." I have so much money on hand that I'm a little unaccustomed to it. Thanks to Chuck, I didn't have to spend my own money on a car. But the truck's fuel consumption didn't cost me less.

"That truck probably didn't have a good fuel economy." As he spoke, he clearly thought of it with me.

"I know I'll stop at Montesano and Thurston to refuel – and at Takma if necessary."

"Are you going alone?" He asked. I don't know if he was suspecting that I had a boyfriend secretly or if he was simply worried about the car.

"Yes."

"Seattle is a big city -- you might get lost." He was a little worried.

"Dad, Draco is five times the size of Seattle - and I can read the map, don't worry."

"Do you want to come with me?"

I tried to hide the fear that came to me when I heard it.

"No problem, Dad, but I'll probably spend the whole day in the fitting room - that would be boring."

"Oh, okay then." The thought of sitting in a women's clothing store, no matter how long he had to sit, was enough to scare him out of his mind.

"Thank you." I smiled at him.

"You're going to be back in time for the prom, right?"

Belch. Only in small towns will the dads know when the prom is held in middle school.

"No—I don't dance, Daddy." He should know better than anyone - my mother's problem with my balance is not inherited.

He does know it. "Oh, okay then." He understood.

The next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot, I deliberately parked far away from the silver Volvo. I didn't want to overwhelm myself and end up paying him a new car. As soon as I stepped out of the cab, the key slipped from my finger and fell into a puddle of stagnant water in my footsteps. When I bent down to pick it up, a snow-white hand suddenly reached out and grabbed the key before me. I straightened up immediately. Roger Wright was standing right next to me, leaning on my truck as if nothing had happened.

"How did you do that?" I asked, annoyed.

"To do what?" He said as he held up my key. When I reached for it, he let the key fall into my palm.

"Appearing in thin air."

"Imia, it's not my fault that you're too absent-minded." His voice was the same as usual—like velvet.

I grimaced and glared at his flawless face. Today the color of his eyes has become lighter again, a darker, golden honey color. I had to lower my head and recall my mind, which was already in disarray.

"What's going on with last night's traffic jam?" I still looked away, cross-examining. "I think you're more likely pretending not to notice I exist, rather than trying to me off."

"It's for Moore, not for myself. I want to give him a chance. He snickered.

"You ......" I gasped, unable to think of a bad enough word. It felt like the flames of my anger were scorching him, and he still just thought it was fun.

"I didn't pretend I didn't notice your presence." He continued.

"So you want to me off to death? Just because Moore's wagon didn't do it? ”

Anger flashed through his tawny eyes. His lips pursed into a hard line, and all humor was gone.

"Imia, you're unreasonable." He said, his deep voice sounding cold.

My palms fluttered - I desperately wanted to find something to beat me up. I was amazed at what I thought. I'm usually a non-forcemaker. I turned around and strode away.

"Wait." He shouted. I kept walking, angrily kicking and splashing a lot of rain. But he followed me so closely that he could easily keep up with me.

"I'm sorry, these words are so rude." He said as we walked. I ignored him. "I'm not saying that's not the truth." He continued. "But anyway, it's true but rude."

"Why can't you leave me alone?" I grumbled.

"I want to ask you something, but you're always changing the subject." He laughed. He seems to have regained his good sense of humor.

"Do you have multiple personalities?" I asked fiercely.

"Here you go again."

I sighed. "Okay then, what do you want to ask?"

"I just want to know, next Saturday -- you know, the day of the Spring Ball—"

"Are you kidding?" I interrupted him and stopped to turn to him. When I looked up at him, my face was wet with the rain.

His eyes looked a little happy and vicious. "Will you let me finish?"

I bit my lip and clasped my hands together, interlocking my fingers so that I wouldn't do anything reckless.

"I heard you're going to Seattle that day. I wonder if you'd like to hitchhike with me. ”

This was a surprise to me.

"What?" I'm not sure what he's referring to.

"Would you like to hitchhike to Seattle?"

"With whom?" I asked, confused.

"Obviously, with me." He pronounced each syllable clearly, as if he were talking to someone with a mental disability.

I was still in shock. "Why?"

"Well, I'm just going to be going to Seattle in the next few weeks, and, frankly, I don't think your truck will be able to drive to Seattle."

"My truck is performing well, thank you for your concern." I kept going, but I was too surprised to sustain my anger at the same level.

"But your car is going to drive there, is a tank of gas enough?" He continued to follow my steps.

"I don't think it has anything to do with you." Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

"Wasting limited resources has a problem with everyone."

"Honestly, Roger." When I said his name, I felt a shiver run through my body. I hate that. "I just can't keep up with your train of thought. I thought you didn't want to be friends with me. ”

"I'm just saying it would be better if we weren't friends, but it's not like I don't want to."

"Oh, thanks, now everything is clear." Such irony. I found myself stopping. Now we are standing under the eaves of the cafeteria, so I can look at his face more easily. But it didn't seem to help me clear my mind in any way.

"What if...... If you're not my friend, it's more cautious. He explained. But I'm tired of it, and I don't want to go to any more trouble to get myself out of you, Imia. ”

His eyes sparkled and he looked very nervous. When he finished his last sentence, his voice seemed to burn. I forgot how to breathe.

"Would you like to come with me to Seattle?" He asked, still a little nervous.

I couldn't speak yet, so I just nodded.

He smiled faintly, and then his face became serious.

"You really should stay away from me." He warned. "We'll see you in class."

He turned abruptly and walked back the way he came.