Free Pretty Sly by Elisa Ludwig Page B

cry.
    This was too raw, too close. And whatever was happening between Aidan and me was too new.
    “Can we change this?” I reached toward the radio,but Aidan held out his hand to block me.
    “Driver’s choice.”
    “Who made up that rule?” I asked.
    “Dude, that’s a universal rule. Everyone knows that the driver has to be relaxed on a road trip. If you were driving you’d get to pick.”
    “But I can’t drive.”
    “And thus, it will be my choice so long as we’re on this trip. I have excellent taste,” he said, turning the dial so that the classic rock blared even more loudly through the speakers. “You, of all people, should know that.”
    My cheeks warmed at the compliment.
    “Can you grab me a turkey jerky from my bag, please, copilot?”
    “Righto.” I dug out the snack for him, noticing that his bag was filled with at least one change of clothes, and handed it over. “So you knew all along you’d be driving, didn’t you?”
    His eyes dipped over in my direction and my insides fluttered. “I had a strong inclination, yes. Or I hoped, anyway.”
    I tried to ignore the trembling in my chest. This was real. There was something going on and both of us could feel it. I pointed to a sign for the exit coming up. “Maybe we can stop for dinner?”
    “Yeah, good idea. I could use a coffee, too.”
    We found a Subway a few miles from the highway and pulled into the parking lot. I stashed the map and the printout of the painting in the glove compartmentand left my schoolbooks, but I took my overnight bag, afraid to leave it and all my cash in the car with the busted window. It was much cooler here, in the middle of the night, and I quickly grabbed my mom’s wind-breaker and slipped it on.
    All of a sudden I felt aware of the two of us being together as we crossed the parking lot, that people passing by might think we were a couple. Were we? He was here, even when it meant risking his own probation.
    He was walking fast and aggressively, as he always did, his jaw set. I glimpsed his biceps poking out of his T-shirt.
    Hello, biceps.
    What was he thinking about? Was he worried about his parents? Was he afraid? There were so many things I didn’t know about him. Things I wanted to know.
    After he ordered, he turned to me. “What are you having? Only the finest here for the lady.”
    I scanned the menu. “Turkey and cheese.”
    “Excellent choice. One of my favorites.”
    The cashier asked, “Is this separate or together?”
    “Together,” he said, and a little shiver danced across my shoulder blades.
    We sat down at a Formica booth to eat our subs.
    “Thanks for dinner,” I said. “You didn’t have to—”
    “Pay? Willa, my parents have more money than God, okay? I can cover a freaking sandwich.”
    I shrugged, embarrassed. That he was so direct about stuff like that, when so many Paradise Valley peopleacted like there was nothing special about having millions, set Aidan apart. But his having money was also something that would always be different between him and me.
    “What’s the plan?” he asked, popping a pickle slice in his mouth.
    “I don’t know,” I said. “That’s what I’ve been wondering.” I’d been so focused on getting to Santa Barbara, I hadn’t thought through the rest of the details.
    Like the fact that we were really breaking the law now, as in brand-new crimes. And the fact that my mom said not to come after her.
    I was so getting grounded. Probably before and after getting arrested. But what choice did I have?
    “I’ve got it. Check this: We go in, bum-rush security. You steal a maid’s uniform. We’ll restrain the guards and tie them up, but it’ll just be temporary. . . . Then we go up the service elevator. I’ll hide in your laundry cart.”
    I laughed. “I don’t think all of that will be necessary.”
    “No?”
    “We can probably just go into the lobby and ask for her at the front desk.”
    “That doesn’t sound fun at all. I thought you were