Page 11 of Sunshine

He sighs, wiping away a tear as it falls. His lips are pressedin a firm line, and worry lines his eyes. He looks so . . . tired. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Layla. But not here. You’re freezing. Let me get you out of the cold—let me take you home.”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to go home. I can’t . . . I can’t.” I can’t face this alone. And I sure as hell can’t take any of this to my mother.

He gives me another long look before he dips his head. “Give me thirty seconds,” he says, pulling me up to my feet. He nudges me so I’m leaning against the brick wall and, after a brief moment of hesitation, he disappears back inside.

Sure enough, he’s back before I can count to twenty-two. His cowboy hat is on his head and he wraps a black Carhartt jacket around my shoulders that smells just like him, like leather and the Texas wind.

He steers me to where his old Chevy truck is tucked into the corner of the parking lot, where I hadn’t noticed it earlier when I’d walked in. Unlocking the door with a long silver key, I barely feel his hands on me as he guides me into the front seat and leans in to buckle the seat belt around my body. I don’t fight him—instead, I simply sink in, resigned to let him take me wherever he wants to go.

As long as it means I get the truth when we get there.

CHAPTER SIX

THEN

I’ve never been on a date before, and I feel all kinds of things trying to prepare for my first one with a boy like Jason. He’s so dreamy, and I have to keep pinching myself that this is happening. I still don’t know what a junior would see in me.

It’s been exactly a week since Jason asked me out. A week of waiting for any sort of confirmation from him that the invitation had been real as we sat next to each other in photography every day. Finding out that I made the varsity team was enough of a distraction that I didn’t notice his silence until Wednesday. But he stayed quiet all week, and—besides a few smiles he shot my way—I was starting to think that I’d dreamt this whole thing up.

But then, this afternoon, he stopped me with a warm hand on my arm just as the bell rang.

“Hey, Layla,” he said softly as I slipped on my backpack. Iturned around to face him, finding that wide, charming grin on his face.

“Yeah?” I asked tentatively.

“About that date . . . can I pick you up tonight? Around seven?”

The room began to spin, and I almost toppled right into a standing tripod before I managed to catch my balance. Jason was asking me out—again! Steadying myself with a deep breath, I nodded before squeaking out, “I think so.”

He chuckled softly as his brows knitted together in an adorable pattern. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I . . . I usually watch my little sister after school, and I’ll have to make sure my mom is home by then to take over,” I rushed out, “but seven should be totally fine. Maybe I can get your number so I can text you when I know for sure?”

Oh my god, I’d thought.Did I just ask Jason Moore for his phone number?

His grin was lopsided as he nodded, and my heart did a cartwheel when he reached for the phone in my hand, plucking it right out of my grip before saving his number into my contacts and handing it back to me. The move was so smooth my face almost split in two with the force of my smile.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he murmured low before striding out the door.

And now it’s five minutes to seven, and I’m coming apart at the seams with nerves. Thankfully my mom got home an hour ago, and when I asked her if it was okay to go out again tonight, she just smiled and nodded as she skirted into the kitchen where Annie was working on homework. I’d sent a quick text to Jason—a simpleWe’re on!followed by my address—before launching myself in the shower to start getting ready.

I decided to wear my best denim cutoffs and a flowing pink top that falls just along the waist of my shorts, accessorizing with a few dainty gold bracelets and my favorite gold heart necklace.

I’m fumbling with my tube of pink gloss and giving my lips one last swipe when a honk sounds from outside, and the color drains from my face.

“Layla!” Mom calls up the stairs. “Is that your ride?”

“I think so!” I yell back down before squinting at the girl in the mirror. “This is going to be good,” I tell myself. “Jason is cute, and he’s a freaking junior. Be cool.”

With a final sweep over my outfit, I decide it’s now or never and hustle down the stairs. I peek out the window next to the front door and see a bright red Mustang parked along the curb.

“Who is that?” my mom asks, and I nearly jump out of my skin at the way she snuck up behind me.

“Um . . . a friend!” I say, not trusting myself to look back at her. “Gotta go, love you!”

“Layla Hayes, are you going on a date?!”

Sighing, my shoulders drop as I inevitably turn to face her. “He’s just a friend, Mom. He’s in my class and just wanted to hang out.”

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