Page 101 of Chaos

By the time I’ve swapped out my pajamas for a sweatsuit plucked from the clean pile of laundry that my baby sister sneakily did for me, my five-minute timer is ringing—Yasmin is screaming my name from the living room, which I slope into to find everyone else already gathered.

Everyone, including the man I haven’t spoken to since I shrieked at him in the rain.

Setting my shoulders, I paste on a smile I’m sure looks more like a grimace. “Ready?”

A chorus of agreement ushers me out the front door.

We’re taking Finn’s truck, I soon learn, though the owner doesn’t head for the driver’s side. Instead, he holds open the passenger door, and while I briefly, asininely assume it’s for me, I don’t make a fool of myself by letting that assumption manifest.

When I climb into the backseat, I fight the urge to glance at Finn to gauge his reaction. But as Yasmin climbs in the front and the boys sandwich me in the back, I swear I hear him shut the door with a little more gusto than necessary.

As we pull into a wide, open lot, I shoot Yasmin a narrow-eyed look. “Movie, huh?”

In the rearview mirror, she blinks at me innocently. “I didn’t mention it was a drive-in?”

No. No, she didn’t. If she had, I wouldn’t have come because there’s a reason the tiny cinema in Haven Ridge is one bad day away from shutting down—the local drive-in stole theirbusiness. Like, all of it. On the weekends, the repurposed field sprawled before us is absolutely riddled with people, and tonight is no different.

I cast one glance out of the windshield and recognize half a dozen faces.

Shit.

As I flick my hood up and slouch like a freaking felon on the run, one of the bodies plastered to mine shifts. “You okay?”

Briefly glancing to my left, I offer Adam a stiff nod. “Peachy.”

Ifpeachywas a synonym foroverstimulated as fuck. The car ride has already frayed my nerves to the point of disintegration—this is a big truck, but Adam and Theo are big guys, and being crushed between them for the past forty minutes made me seriously wish I’d sucked it up and taken the front seat.

This is the last thing I need, but I guess I don’t really have a choice. It’s not like I can just go home. I’m sure as fuck not going to verbalize how deeply uncomfortable the thought of merely being perceived by anyone I went to high school with makes me, considering what happened last time, so I guess I’ve just got to suck it up.

What was I telling myself only a couple of days ago?

Get right the fuck on over it, Lottie.

By the time I force myself outside, the others have already climbed into the truck bed. Horror of horrors, I find them sitting side-by-side, close as close can be, and yet there’s still only approximately half an inch of space left for me to squeeze into.

Thanks, but no thanks.

I’m reaching for the stack of blankets propped amongst a sea of snacks and pillows, planning to camp out on the grass, when a throat clearing makes me pause. “Yas, cuddle up.”

Metal creaks as Yasmin quickly obeys, more than happy to hop onto her boyfriend’s lap at Finn’s command. She leaves an empty space beside them, but that doesn’t stay unoccupied forlong because Finn isn’t done rearranging. No, he shoves Adam until he scooches over, and then he moves over himself, leaving a new gap beside him and the side of the truck that I guess must be all for me.

Briefly, I consider sitting on the ground anyway. And then I realize how fucking pathetic that would be, so I hoist myself up and drop into the space, pressed as close to the edge as I can get.

I don’t say anything. Finn doesn’t either. He does stare at me, though. For a while, he stares, and I squirm so much under his burning gaze, I’m surprised the truck doesn’t start rocking.

I pretend I don’t notice. I pretend until the huge screen in front of us finally lights up, and then I don’t have to anymore.

The movie starts, and Finn looks away, and I can breathe again.

He looks away, and I miss the burn.

“Lottie.”

I grunt. Mind groggy, I knuckle my tired eyes without opening them. Shifting to try to relieve my poor buttcheeks, numb from sitting in the same position for who knows how long, I press my face closer to the firm pillow supporting my head.

A heavy weight settles atop my bent knees and squeezes. “Sweetheart, wake up.”

I frown. Grunt again. Sink further into the warmth of… a body, I vaguely register. A body that exudes heat and is flush against my own, that leans into me almost as heavily as I do it, that I have a palm pressed against, somewhere flat and muscled, that—

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