Page 42 of Driftwood Daffodil 3

“Annoying, isn’t it?”

“Or peaceful.” He argued.

Pfft, who wanted peace? Certainly not Bush Girl. Based on the sneer she shot my way, I’d say peace was the last thing on her mind.

I smiled and waved at her, causing Memphis to look out the windshield.

“Did you do that just to torment Stacy?”

Stacy? That was a perfect nemesis name. “Maybe.”

“She’s student body president, Nova.”

“So?”

“Why can’t you make enemies with someone less influential?”

I turned my now dour expression his way. “You mean like Gio Mancini?”

“Fair point.” He nodded. “By the way, if Chuck asks, you guys got to talking at Chuck’s game and hooked up shortly after.”

That was oddly accurate. “And he believed that?”

Chuck seemed pretty convinced that something else was going on. Which it was, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You don’t exactly make great choices when it comes to men.”

“They aren’t that bad.”

Memphis’s brow arched. “Simon Fisher.”

“He had nice hair.”

“We are not having this argument again.”

Well not if he wasn’t going to participate. I could argue with myself, but that wasn’t as much fun.

“Anyway,” he sat back and sighed. “You’re done.”

I sat up to inspect my jaw in the rearview mirror. Memphis did a good job. If I looked really close, I could still see a faint touch of purple, but not enough to screamI got slapped.

“Thank you.” I smiled.

“Whatever. Next time Gio hits you, hide the evidence yourself.”

“I told you, it wasn’t, Gio.”

“Uh huh? And let me guess, the marks on your neck are from a scarf?”

Okay, those were from Gio, but the scarf thing wasn’t totally out there. “He didn’t hit me, Memphis.”

“Then who did?”

“Marty.”

“Who the hell is, Marty?”

“He’s Marty.”

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