Free Sticky Fingers by Niki Burnham Page B

handle this at the party.”
    “Just stick by me. They have their own car, so maybe we can ditch them early and go on to Rick’s party. Rick’s will be such a zoo, it’ll be easy to avoid her there if we—” His fingers tighten around mine. “Wait. I have an idea.”
    “What?”
    He lets go of my hand and picks up his cell phone, grinning the whole time he’s dialing.
    “Who are you calling?” I ask.
    He ignores me as the person on the other end picks up. “Hey, Mat?”
    I make a face at him and mouth, “What are you calling them for?”
    “Jenna left her gloves at Bennigan’s. We’re going back for them, but you guys go ahead to Lucas’s. We’ll catch you there.”
    He mumbles a couple uh-huhs, then says, “Okay. And if you don’t see us at Lucas’s for whatever reason, you know, if we get hung up or something, just go on to Rick’s and we’ll find you there.”
    When he hangs up, I say, “Since my gloves are right here in my coat pocket, care to let me know the plan?”
    “We skip Lucas’s and Rick’s parties entirely and just head to the nursery. Courtney definitely won’t be there, and I bet she doesn’t miss us, either. Besides, it’s our last chance for time alone before Christmas. Whaddya say? And I promise—no pressure.”
    I’m not sure the nursery’s the right answer, but it definitely beats hanging with Courtney and trying not to throttle her in front of the whole school. Not because I’m in a peace-loving mood, but more because I don’t want to be the focus of gossip for the rest of break if I end up ripping her a new one in the middle of a crowded party.
    As Scott flips a U-turn on Route 9, heading back toward Bennigan’s, I realize that there’s no way I can look at Courtney’s face tonight. No way.
    I lift Scott’s hand and kiss his fingertips. “I say you’re a genius.”
    When we pass by Bennigan’s, heading for Speen Street and the nursery, I lean across the seat and kiss him on the cheek. And I know I’ve made the right choice.
    At least until a few minutes later, when we’re rolling into the nursery parking lot.
    “Uh-oh,” I say, just after Scott kills the headlights and turns so we’re heading into the area behind the nursery. We both instantly recognize the car parked—lights off—at the far side of the lot, under the ice-laden branches of a tall evergreen. It’s a guy Scott knows from basketball, and the guy’s with his girlfriend.
    Scott does a quick U-turn, trying to make it look like we’re nothing more than some random car that happened to wander back there accidentally, then heads back onto Speen Street.
    “Now what?” I hate the idea of heading to RickDando’s, but there’s really nowhere private to go at this point.
    “I know you didn’t want to go to a hotel before,” he says, “and I totally don’t want to pressure you, but … since we can’t go to the nursery … maybe?”
    I glance sideways at him. He’s so incredibly gorgeous, so out of my league … and so good to me, it blows me away. “Okay.”
    “Really? I promise—we don’t have to do anything you don’t want—”
    “Let’s just go.”
    In my grandparents’ generation, I know people my age had kids already. They worked regular jobs to pay for food and clothes, as opposed to the catch-ascatch-can babysitting I do so I can put gas in my car and have some cash when I get to college. They were considered adults at seventeen.
    But as I walk through the glass doors into the hotel lobby, with Scott walking beside me, I feel like I’m back in first grade and doing something I’m not supposed to. My gut’s clenched as if I expect a teacher to put her hand on my shoulder at any secondand say, “Jenna Kassarian, what are you doing here? You know this isn’t where you’re supposed to be.”
    I shouldn’t feel like a kid, I know. I mean, I’ve always made all the right decisions, because that’s just what I do. It’s why my whole future’s lining up the way I