The Ordinary Life of Emily P. Bates Read Online Free Page B

because you’re never going to meet the driver.”
                  Every other car in line turned right into the student parking lot. I turned on my blinker as well, and to my horror, so did the red Chevy.
                  “Oh crap.”
                  I pulled into the parking lot and squeezed in between two cars. There were no other spaces in the row. The plan was to shut off the engine and dash inside before the owner of the Chevy could see who I was.
                  The plan half worked. I bolted out of the car as soon as the engine whined to a stop, but I forgot to take off my seat belt first. An involuntary grunt stumbled through my teeth as the nylon bit into my stomach. Quickly I ripped off my seat belt and again tried to exit the car. This time the long shoulder strap on my bag caught on the parking brake. I was jerked off of my feet and almost went sprawling onto the black asphalt. Somehow I managed to catch myself on the door, which screeched open even wider, and skinned my bare knee on the asphalt in the process.
    And then it got worse.
                  The Chevy had parked in the spot right behind me, and the driver had gotten out long before I managed to stand up straight, my knee stinging in the hot wind. There was no way that he wouldn’t recognize my car if it was the same person.
                  Of course it was the same person. The driver was a boy about my age with dark hair and dark skin. He didn’t look Hispanic, but he definitely wasn’t black, either. He was tall with tousled black hair and a cheerful face. He was good looking enough that my face flushed red when I realized that he was grinning at me. And of course, the embarrassment of blushing made me blush even more.
                  I gave him a half smile when he noticed me looking at him, then turned and started power-walking toward the glass doors that led into the cafeteria.
                  “Hey! Stop. Wait!”
    I ignored him, head down. My book bag thumped against the backs of my knees with every step.
    He was faster than I’d given him credit for. I’d nearly made it to the double doors when he caught up to me. He put a cool hand on my elbow and I had to stop.
    “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” he asked. He had a warm voice at odds with his cold touch, a voice that seemed right on the edge of laughter.
    “Oh,” I said, thinking fast. “No, I heard you.”
    I looked up at him, excuse at the ready, and then stopped. He had seemed good looking at a distance, but up close he was devastating. His eyes were so dark that they were like black pools, iris indiscernible from pupil.
    “Are you okay?” he asked. The laughter in his voice was a little less now.
    “Uh, yeah.” I flushed and turned away, silently cursing myself for staring. I went to the cafeteria doors and felt his hand slip off of my elbow. His hand had been cold, but the place where he’d touched me was burning.
    I pushed through the doors and my ears were instantly barraged with the echoing chatter of hundreds of students. I spotted Shannon and Finn at our usual table across the room and started walking toward them.
                  “You stalled out at a stop light last week, didn’t you?” said the new boy suddenly. He was taking very long strides in an effort to keep up with me. 
                  I glanced up at him, confused as to what point he was trying to make. “Yeah. Sorry. Oscar’s kind of finicky like that.”
                  “Who’s Oscar?”
                  We were almost to my table and Shannon had spotted me. She had been talking to Margo, who usually didn’t sit with us, but had been distracted by the sight of the boy walking next to me. Her eyebrows furrowed.
                  I ignored the warning signs that Shannon was building up her drama-arsenal and focused instead on not making a fool