then stood and rummaged through my purse (pretending to look for my phone, which was conveniently not there). “Shoot!” I said loudly, careful not to use any forbidden words and be sentenced to even more probation (or worse, expulsion).
I turned around and, spotting Timothy already looking my direction, ran over to him and did my best impersonation of a damsel in distress.
“I can’t believe it,” I told him, actually working tears into my eyes. Or was it just the rain?
“What’s wrong?” he asked, clearly concerned.
“I’ve got a flat tire,” I told him. “Can you believe it? It’s like nothing whatsoever is going right in my life!” I looked up at him with pleading eyes.
“Yeah, I heard you got kicked out of cheerleading too.”
“Not exactly kicked out,” I said quickly, trying to preserve what little reputation I had left. “I’m just on probation.” I attempted to regain my troubled expression again, although I was thinking that stupid Shawna had probably told him and anyone willing to listen that I’d been “kicked off” the squad entirely. Oh, well.
“Want some help?” he offered.
I brightened. “Oh, would you, Timothy?”
“Yeah. Where do you keep the spare in that little clown car?”
I smiled and pointed to the hood. “You still call it that?”
And you can imagine my complete surprise when he pulled out the spare tire only to discover that it too was flat. (I’d taken care of that earlier.)
“Man, that just figures,” I told him, shaking my head sadly. “It just goes with the rest of my pitiful little life.” I tried to take the floppy spare tire from him now, but he insisted on placing it back in the car himself.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you, Tim,” I told him. “Now, if I can just find my cell phone, I’ll call someone to come get me.” I dug around in my purse for a while, then held it out for him to inspect. “Am I totally blind? Do you see my cell in there anywhere?” I’d already taken care to conceal the ice pick in a zippered pocket.
“I don’t see it either,” he said quickly. “But we’re getting soaked, Jordan. Why don’t you just get in my car and I’ll give you a ride.”
“But I don’t want to trouble—”
He grabbed me by the arm then. “Come on, Jordan. It’s no big deal, really.”
So, tucked warm and snug in his Mustang, I leaned back into the seat and sighed. “Oh, Timothy, did I ever tell you how much I totally love this car?”
He turned and looked at me in surprise. “Really? You like it? Shawna thinks it smells like gasoline.”
I rubbed my hand over the dash. “I think it smells like the good old days.” Man, was I hitting it or what?
He smiled. “Yeah, me too.”
“We had some great times in here, Tim.”
He nodded and started the ignition. “Where do you want to go?”
I smiled in what I hoped was a seductive way and then said, in a lowered voice, “Hey, I think I’d go anywhere you wanted to take me, Timothy.”
He laughed. “Is that a come-on, Jordan?”
Now I pretended to pout a little. “I’m sorry, Tim. But you have absolutely no idea how hard it’s been on me to lose you.”
“Really?” He turned and looked at me like I was putting him on, but to be completely truthful, that was about the most honest thing I’d said so far.
“Cross my heart and hope to die, Tim.”
“But you didn’t act like it when we broke up,” he said, clearly confused. “I didn’t think you really cared that much.”
“I guess I’m just not that kind of person—to hang on once I know it’s over. I mean, I figured, hey, if you like Shawna more than me, well, what can I do about that?” Now I placed my hand on his thigh. A bold move perhaps, but I felt slightly desperate just then, like this might be my one and only chance and I’d better make good use of it or else just throw in the towel.
Timothy looked pretty surprised but not displeased. In fact, he was smiling.
“Looking back, maybe I handled