Page 78 of Driftwood Daffodil

“No it couldn’t.”

“Yes it could.”

“No it couldn’t.”

“Yes it could.”

“You’re not a weatherman Atlee.”

“I could be.”

“But you’re not.”

“But I could be.”

What the fuck was happening right now? Why were they arguing about the weather. They were worse than a couple of two year olds.

“Hey!” I slammed my hand down on the dashboard, interrupting their argument. “Did you get him.”

Atlee sounded insulted by my question, “Of course we did. We’re not amateurs.”

“Really, because I’m pretty sure only an amateur would argue about the weather while they had a hostage in the backseat.” Dumbass.

“Oh, as opposed to the master who parked in plain sight.” He arched his brow and added, “you do understand the meaning of inconspicuous, right?”

I dropped my gaze to the bright color painted on his car, “you want to talk about inconspicuous?”

“I’m not the one stalking someone.”

My eyes narrowed, “neither am I.”

“We’re playing this game again, are we.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “and just get him in here.”

It was time to see what the little fuck knew about Novalee Ford.

Atlee stuck his head out of the window and looked at the church across the street, then back at me. “You do know we can be seen?”

“Do you care?”

He shrugged, “not really.”

Darry’s blonde head appeared from behind Atlee, “I do.”

No he didn’t. Darry may come off as the calm silent type, but he would be the first person to crack someone up the side of the head in the middle of a crowded room. He was just being difficult. Probably because I was keeping him from studying for the pop quiz in bio tomorrow.

“Just do it.” I growled while turning my phone off.

Carissa didn’t like being ignored, and pissy wouldn’t even begin to explain Darry’s mood if he knew about the messages she’d been sending me all day. The first day of school was the last time I talked to her.

I told myself it was slip up that wouldn’t happen again. But that didn’t make it any easier to look Darry in the eye when he begrudgingly got out and opened my back door.

Atlee was a little more discreet about the transfer. He gracefully slipped into his backseat, and kicked open the door, creating a sort of shield with a small gap between the doors. Then Darry pulled Simon out and made him duck down so he wouldn’t be seen, while Atlee shot a wink in Nova’s direction.

She was watching us intently, probably trying to figure out what was going on. She wouldn’t. My windshield was tinted enough that she could see me, but not the backseat. A feature I regretted having installed when I saw Simon’s bleeding lip and cut cheek in the rearview mirror.

I wouldn’t have minded seeing the look on Nova’s face when she saw him. One look could tell a lot about someone. Like if they cared about someone or not. And attachments could be used to our advantage.

---