She flits a cool glance at the bracelet. “It sounds like you’re making fun of my classy wrist accessory, Dylan Braun.”
“No judgment. Just saying it’s big.”
She starts the car. The turquoise and rainbow colored horse bobs against her wrist as she shifts into drive. “You were supposed to say it has a classy, timeless appeal.”
When I let out a quiet huff, she glances over at me.
“Glad you think it’s amusing, because everyone else is going to think I’ve flipped my lid. I’m kind of known for having an awesome sense of style.”
“Not your humble personality?”
She sighs. “I just want to make sure you appreciate my level of commitment here—going through with this to prove you can trust me when I give you my word on something.” Her eyes meet mine. “For the record, I would not put myself through this for just anyone.”
Weird thing is I know she’s telling the truth. Still, seems like she’s being kind of dramatic.
“You realize you’re wearing a My Little Horse bracelet for a day—not sacrificing your first born, right?”
“Funny. If I’d known everything out of your mouth was going to be so snarky, I wouldn’t have been so eager to get you to talk.” She jerks to a stop at a traffic light and flashes a semi-playful smile. “Can we go back to grunting, ten-words-a-day Dylan? I think I liked him better.”
“He’s not going anywhere,” I tell her seriously. “You’re good.”
The light changes and we jerk forward. Scarlett is hands down the world's worst driver.
“I’m serious, Dylan. If I’m going to wear this thing all day, you’re not allowed to be all broody. At least for today. No clamming up and being a dick to me.” She looks over and the car starts veering towards the center of the road. She faces forward and straightens it with a jerk. “Also, it’s ‘pony’.”
“Huh?”
“My LittlePony,” she corrects. “Not My Little Horse… God. Unbelievable.”
“Horse. Pony. Same thing.”
She taps the brake, and my seatbelt locks. I’m gonna have a permanent diagonal bruise across my torso, just from riding shotgun with her every day.
She throws me a look that locks me in place almost as firmly as the seatbelt across my chest. “IsSleepytime Walkerthe same asSleepwalker?”
There's a beat of silence.
“Got it.” I roll my eyes, biting off a grin with my teeth against my lower lip. “My Little Pony it is.”
Chapter Thirty
Scarlett
Things have been good between Dylan and me all week. I went over to the theater techie table where he was sitting on Wednesday and ate lunch with him. He barely talked, but he also didn’t tell me to leave. Or ditch me and take off to wherever he goes after the ten minutes he usually spends in the dining hall. Seb and Caroline even joined us for the last fifteen minutes. He finally got out of hospital last week, and she was helping him study for a history test he has to make up. I think Dylan was sort of fascinated to see someone else struggling with schoolwork. Like he maybe believed everything always comes easily to all of us other Sandy Haven Prep folks.
I tried convincing him to come to the bonfire tonight. It’s the Fall Fling this evening—basically a semi-formal dance, then afterwards a bunch of people usually head to Helicina Cove for the final bonfire party of the year. I knew the dance was too much of a leap for Dylan, but hoped I might convince him about the bonfire. But he’s a firm ‘no’ on that front, too. Even when mymom and Diane jumped on board at dinner this evening before I started getting ready for the dance, trying to convince him he had nothing to lose by going.
It’s the first time I’ve been to a dance without a date, and it feels weird. Not bad, just… strange. At least Seb’s here, though. And even though he’s under strict instructions to take it easy, for Seb, that still computes at a social presence several tiers above your average party goer. He hypes up the mood tenfold, even when he’s “taking it easy”.
Jackie and I cross paths by the massive punch bowl Xave no doubt spiked with liquor, and we end up hanging out quite a bit over the next couple of hours, finding our way to each other during the slow dances, which we both sit out. Silas didn’t come to the Fall Fling; apparently dances “aren’t his thing”, but he’s joining her later for the party at Helicina Cove. In the meantime, Jackie and I pretend to guess what couples are whispering to each other as they’re pressed chest to chest, swaying to music that’s loud and echoey and not exactly romantic. I’ve been talking more with her at school this past week, too, since I wore that hideous Rainbow Dash bracelet on Monday. Jackie was stunned I still had it. I think she was touched I kept it all these years. I’m touched that she still cares.
Gavin is drunk and dancing with a different girl every slow song, getting handsy and rebuffed more than once. It doesn’t feel weird seeing him with other girls the way I expected it to so soon after our breakup—maybe because we only dated for a month. Or maybe because we were never really a couple—just two people who slapped the label on our relationship regardless of how accurately it fit. He’s given me the cold shoulder since we broke up, and I’m okay with that, too.
After the dance, those of us heading to the party at Helicina Cove huddle into the locker room to change out of our dresses into unflattering bulky layers: jeans and thick socks withsneakers, fitted long-sleeve T-shirts under sweaters under warm jackets. You can always tell the bonfire party newbies because they’re the ones that show up looking cute and put together, and leave hours before anyone else. Seasoned Helicina Cove party-goers come prepared and never get defeated by the weather. I went to a party in May last year where it drizzled rain the entire time, and everyone showed up in boots and hardcore rain jackets with hoods.
When we emerge from the locker room, Silas is here to pick up Jackie, along with this girl Maggie, who goes to Ocean Heights High with him and is apparently his foster sister. I’ve seen her a few times at parties and stuff. Her mom owns Board and Brews, which explains how Silas got a job there.
We hang out for a bit in the quad, chatting with Silas and Maggie, who is friends with Caroline and Jackie, too. She seems cool. Totally different from the crew I usually hang out with, excluding Seb and Xave. A lot of kids who go to Ocean Heights are either intimidated or hostile towards SH Prep students. Maggie is neither. Her confidence is as unapologetic as her pink shoulder-length hair. And when Jackie asks if I want to drive with them to the bonfire, I agree. Maggie being there means I won’t be the third wheel cramping Jackie and Silas’ couple style. Also, I’m liking spending this time with Jackie again. And getting to know Maggie.