Page 9 of Wallflower

The question made Dare smile for some reason. "You keeping tabs on me, Vi?"

I choked. "What? No!"

"Hey, no worries," he said. "I'm not mad about it. A lot of girls do it. Just wasn't aware you were one of them."

"I'm not," I said, taking a deep breath for patience. "It's just hard not to notice when one of your classmates wrecks three luxury vehicles in the space of a three year period."

"Ah, so you have been keeping track."

I really wasn't. Dare Frost was just one of those people who was hard to ignore.

"And my father offered for me to take you to school?" I repeated.

"Yeah. He said he talked to you about it."

I wracked my brain but knew there was no way I'd forget that conversation.

"But wha—"

My phone rang, and seeing my dad's name, I picked up immediately.

"Hi Viola," he said. "I wanted to catch you before school. Have you left yet?"

"Not yet," I said. "Dad, why is Dare Frost here saying that you told him I'd drive him to school?"

"Yeah, I meant to bring it up again but didn't have the chance." My father chuckled self-consciously. "Remember that favor we talked about?"

My eyes closed. "Dad, please tell me you didn't."

"He's a good kid, Vi. I just thought we could help him out."

Turning away, I lowered my voice. "We? We aren't doing anything. This is just me, playing chauffer to one of your star athletes. I can't believe you tricked me into this."

"Tricked? Come on, sweetheart. I love you, but you agreed without hearing any of the details."

He had me there, but—"Can't someone else do it? He has so many friends, Dad. Or for that matter, can't he take the bus?"

Dare scoffed behind me, but I didn't turn.

"The bus doesn't stop in his neighborhood. You know that Vi."

I did. My family and I lived in a little suburb called Piper's Glen, but Dare's family was from the subdivision behind ours called Royal Oaks Estates. Those Richie Rich people lived in McMansions, got their kids brand-spanking-new cars at 16, usually expensive ones—sometimes multiple cars as was the case of the guy behind me—and they definitely wouldn't want a cheese wagon rolling through their streets. It might remind them that there were real, lower-middle class people, who didn't make six figures a year.

"And as for his friends," Dad added, "they didn't want to step up, drive out of their way every morning and bring him to school."

"Hmph," I said.

"Also, did you know Dare couldn't find a ride, so he ran to practice every day last week? That's a few miles at least."

I shrugged. "Aren't you always encouraging the team to run more?"

"Viola."

"What? It sounds like a good workout."

"Oh, Vi." Dad's disappointment was clear, and it hit me right in the chest. "I expected better from you."

I swallowed. "Couldn't you take him?"

---