“I was making popcorn,” I finally admit, sighing. I scratch my arm in a nervous gesture, wondering what the hell to do. As I fidget, I catch my own apparel out of the corner of my eye. Winter’s clothes. Very obviously Winter’s clothes. My hair is still damp.

I’m fucked. He’s genuinely gonna kill me. He already definitely thinks I’m in love with Winter just like everyone else—he sure treats me like some sort of inconvenient, estranged daughter’s boyfriend, so it wouldn’t surprise me. This is not a good look at all.

He takes another step toward me. I briefly wonder if the pantry has a lock on the interior. Probably not.

“We were gonna, uh… have a movie night,” I finish, wincing, wishing I could either melt into the floor or bash my face against concrete. God, my cheeks are only getting warmer. Coincidentally escalating as he draws near.

“Were you?” He responds doubtfully. At this point my best chance is probably to make a break for it. There’s no way I’m surviving this. Maybe I should just call Winter now. Tell her to come down here and hopefully convince her dad to spare my life, because there’s no way I can. Would she get here in time, though?

All I can do is nod. My voice is just not working anymore, that’s it. I can’t bring myself to even look at him. I only have so much self control, and I’d prefer not to destroy my relationship with the only decent part of my life.

He stops right in front of me.

“Move.”

I don’t think twice, don’t even consider disobeying. I immediately move to the right, taking a couple stumbling steps backward as I finally flick my gaze up to look at him. His eyes aren’t on me anymore, though. His focus is solely on the cabinet.

I watch him reach up with ease, opening it and pulling a bag of popcorn kernels out of an already open box. Then, he closes it and turns to face me again.

As soon as I look at his face—really look at it—I know something’s different.

I’m used to being faced with Vaughn and feeling some weird mix of excitement and fear. The man is huge, he’s fucking scary. I can’t remember a single time I saw him smile at anyone who wasn’t Winter. There’s a reason her boyfriend is a fucking secret.

Except… I don’t know, maybe it’s the late hour, but the typical hostility I see in him is muted at the moment. It’s hard to gauge exactly what he’s feeling, but it appears to be some level of intrigue. Interest. He’s weirdly relaxed. His gaze flicks over my face.

He’s holding the bag of popcorn out to me, and I feel stupid for not noticing before. I immediately try to grab it, but his grip doesn’t budge. All I can do is glance back up at him in confusion.

Why is he even getting me the popcorn? Why am I not on his porch with a black eye right now? Why—

“You have freckles.”

The remark is simple, demeanor mildly distracted. Eyes unmoving from my face, and this guy typically makes strong eye contact, but not like this. Not to the point where I feel like I’m being studied.

What is happening?

“…What?” I can’t help my obvious confusion, or the way I’m staring at him. Like he’s an impostor. Something akin to ‘who are you and what have you done with the man who probably prays every night that I crash my deathtrap car and die?’

He glances down at my nose again. His eyes are so pretty.

“I didn’t notice them before.”

Fuck. I forgot.

I don’t have any makeup on.

The only person I interact with who has seen me with no eyeliner is Winter—well, and maybe Junior, a long time ago. That’s it.

I’m immediately insecure.

I can’t help the way my eyes widen at the realization, looking at him like a deer in headlights, taking a step backward and feeling like my entire body just caught on fire. I feel exposed. I feel stupid. I shouldn’t have come here.

I immediately let go of the popcorn and slam my hands over my face, which also allows me to express all the emotion I want to. I can’t help but grimace, wondering how on earth the situation somehow just got worse. I look ridiculous right now! I removed all my jewelry and piercings and everything too! I’m basically fucking naked!

“Sorry, I forgot I— I mean, I had a long day, I just—Winter’s just been doing homework. That’s all, I didn’t mean to—”

What the hell am I saying? I cut myself off, which is absolutely for the best. I’m just making it worse. I need to leave. I need to get out right now. I need to fucking run.

I peek through my fingers at him. He quirks an eyebrow at me, tilting his head a bit.

That’s it.

I don’t even say bye, I just turn and rush out of the room, leaving Vaughn with the popcorn package he didn’t even want. I hurry to the front door and barely remember to lock it behind me as I stumble out onto the porch. Then, I bolt.

Holy shit. That was the most humiliating moment of my life. I can never go back. There’s no other option, I need to end it all. I’m never coming back from that. Why did I run?! That was like, the worst thing I could’ve done in that situation! Now he’s definitely going to think I was up to no good.

I don’t even remember the run to my car, all I know is that it’s only minutes before I’m in the driver’s seat and starting the vehicle up, trying to regulate my breathing. I can’t believe that just happened. How do I constantly make myself somehow look worse and worse in front of him? Just when I think his opinion of me can’t tank anymore than it already has, shit like that happens.

I waste no time before rooting through the center console for some of my backup eyeliner, immediately smearing it over my eyes until I look right again. Only then am I able to relax.

I’m thankful I had my keys and my phone and everything on me, aside from my shoes. Still, I knew better than to walk around Winter’s house with such a real possibility of being caught by her dad and not be ready to ditch at any moment. Seriously, what the fuck was I thinking?

I text her that I ran into her dad and had to leave.

She responds with a heartbreak and a gravestone emoticon.

And, somehow, I know exactly what that means. No worries. Glad you lived.

Right then, my phone begins buzzing. I jump, immediately met with the sight of Belladonna’s name flashing across the screen in bold white letters.

At one AM? That’s not good.

I briefly contemplate not answering, but if she’s calling me like this it has to be something important. So, I sigh and hit the green button.

“Belladonna,” I greet blandly, voice low and flat. I guess the distraction is welcome on some level, it beats thinking.

“You need to get to the track.”

She doesn’t say hi. Doesn’t apologize for calling so late. Doesn’t even breathe between words. Her voice is sharp and panicked, too loud in my ear for one in the goddamn morning. I really should’ve gone home. Then I wouldn’t be awake to deal with whatever it is she’s freaking out about.

“Nope,” I reply immediately, leaning my head back against the seat and closing my eyes. “Off the clock.”

“I’m serious.”

“Sucks.”

“Cren—Crenshaw—if you don’t get your ass over here, someone’s gonna get arrested. Or killed. Or both.”

I open one eye, something clicking. We only have one racer infuriating enough to cause this much of an uproar at such a strange hour. It also wouldn’t be the first time. “Is it Pierce?”

“Yes, it’s Pierce, obviously it’s Pierce, do you know anyone else stupid enough to pick a fight with an entire crew of Westbelt racers in the middle of the night with no fucking backup?!”

“…Unfortunately, yeah.”

“I’m not joking!” she snaps, and I can hear honking in the background. Shouting. Tires screeching. The very real sound of something dangerous brewing. Fuck, I don’t want to deal with this. It sounds like she really will need me though. “Robards is out of town, I can’t reach anyone, and no one else’ll come out here this late. You’re it.”

“Not my job,” I mumble, already scrolling through my social media feed to distract myself, also looking to see if I can find any posts about what she’s talking about. I don’t. Maybe I’ll just go to sleep in my car. That sounds peaceful. Peaceful and far away from shirtless dads and screaming girls and criminal incidents that are somehow my problem.

Then she drops it.

Her voice lowers. Tightens.

“They threatened Winter.”

I pause.

“…What?”

“I don’t know what happened. It’s all a mess—Pierce got in someone’s face, someone else threw a punch, now the whole fucking lot’s gone to shit. And some asshole said something about Pierce’s main bitch.” She quotes, and just knowing someone dared to refer to Winter with such disrespect is enough for me to briefly fucking transcend.

I also really, really don’t like the implication that Pierce has more than one, even if it is unsurprising.

My chest goes cold.

I’m gonna kill them. Every single one. Especially Pierce, I don’t give a shit if I’m exhausted and wearing My Little Pony attire. That’s unacceptable.

“I don’t even think Pierce noticed, but I did. You think those guys don’t know who she is? You think they won’t go after her just to make a point?”

I’m already shifting into drive.

“Send me your exact location,” I say.

“You know the track—”

“Send it anyway.”

I hang up without waiting for a goodbye.