I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Shoes,” I mumbled.

“What?” she asked again.

I turned and sifted through the shit on the floor of the backseat. I knew I’d seen a pair of Hannah’s flip-flops there somewhere. She’d refused to take them back when I’d told her I’d found them. Maybe it was her way of claiming her territory. Better than her panties or bra, I guessed. Once I’d found them, I dropped them on the ground in front of Abby’s feet.

She smirked. “Girlfriend’s?”

“Sister’s,” I lied. Why the fuck did I just lie?

It was obvious she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t question me, just slipped them on and waited with her hands in the jacket pockets.

We set off, back to where I’d run into her, phone and flashlight in tow. It was awkward. I figured she had to know I’d lied about having a girlfriend. I broke the silence. “So, you go to school around here? I mean, what? How old are you anyway? I figure you’re around my age. I’m a senior.” Then quickly, I added, “I’m eighteen, though.” Yeah, because that was important. I shook my head at myself.

“Here’s the thing, Blake.” She used that same tone with my name again. Before I could ask her what that was about, she continued, “Let’s not do the whole, awkward, get-to-know-you thing. In reality, we’ll probably never see each other again after tonight. Okay?”

“Um . . . okay.”

“Good.” After a pause, she added, “I don’t normally dress—or look—like this.”

Facing her, I wondered why she’d say something like that. Her head was bent low, her face hidden behind her hair. I studied her intently. It struck me that I’d been doing that a lot. “Abby, I’m in no place to judge.”

She raised her head, eyebrows drawn, and turned to me, as if confused. I couldn’t take my eyes off hers. Then she blinked. And it broke whatever silent communication was passing between us. “Thank you, Blake.”

Every goddamn time she said my name, it was like a freight train running through my mind. Why did she say it like that? “You’re welcome, Abby.”

She smirked. She must’ve known I was mocking her, but she didn’t call me on it. I came to a stop and tugged on her arm. “We’re here,” I informed her, shining the flashlight into some bushes.

“Oh.” She looked around. “How can you tell?”

“I run this track at least twice a day, or night, however you want to look at it.” I shrugged. “I just know.”

I thought that she’d ask questions or wonder why I was out here in the dead of night while all my so-called friends were getting wasted at some cliché high-school party. But she didn’t. She just made her way into the bushes, with her arms outstretched, spreading leaves and branches out of her way.

“You want me to call your phone? At least, you might be able to hear it.” I shined the flashlight over her shoulder so we could see in front of her.

She laughed. Low and slow. “I don’t know my number.”

I came to a stop. “You don’t know your own number?” Who doesn’t know their own number? I started moving again, adding, “How do you give guys your number?”

She turned around abruptly, causing me to run into her for the second time. I grabbed her elbows to keep her upright. She straightened, pulling her hair away from her face. Then she raised her eyes. They were huge, almost as huge as the breaths she was inhaling. Looking away, she shrugged. “I don’t.”

“What do you mean, you don’t?”

She exhaled loudly and raised her eyebrows in warning.

“Right.” I nodded. “No getting-to-know-each-other stuff.”

“So,” I said, leaning against my car.

She replaced Hannah’s flip-flops with her now recovered heels. “So?”

I hesitated a moment before offering, “I should probably give you a ride home.”

She giggled. It was genuine, not like the annoying fake ones that spilled out of Hannah. Why did I keep comparing her to Hannah? “You probably should,” she agreed, looking around the parking lot, “but you’re not going to. I’m going to hoof it. Thank you so much, Blake, for everything. Saving me and all.”

“What?” I straightened, and for some reason, a protectiveness I’ve never felt before kicked in. “You can’t walk by yourself at this time of night.” It came out louder than I’d expected. “It’s not safe. I won’t let you.” I shook my head frantically.

She smirked. She was amused. Great.

“I mean it, Abby. I’m not just going to let you walk around on your own.”

Her laugh cut me off, echoing through the trees around us. “Okay, okay,” she soothed, settling her palm flush against my chest. My shoulders sagged in relief. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been. She dropped her hand fast. Too fast. “Sorry,” she mumbled, as if I would have a problem with her touching me. She pulled out her phone. The light from it illuminated her face as she ran her tongue across her top lip.

For a second, I forgot to breathe.

She was cute. Maybe even hot.

“You okay?”

“Huh?” Fuck. I was staring.

“You zoned out.”

“Oh.” I faked. “Yeah, I’m . . . nothing. Yeah . . . nothing.” I was going to tell her that I was just tired, but it would have been a lie.