Still on the fence about whether or not to buy a copy of The Art of Being Indifferent? Check out a scene between Posey and Drew, and maybe that will help you make up your mind.
“Just leave me alone,” Posey shouted over her shoulder, her worn Chuck Taylor’s splashing in a puddle as she stomped down the side of the road.
I moved my car forward slowly, stopping it in front of her, blocking her path. I’d only gotten my keys back the night before, after blowing my best time out of the water—pun intended—at practice. And yes, ditching school to pick up Posey was risky as hell, because if my dad found out, he would shit a solid gold brick, but I couldn’t help myself. My self-control disintegrated a little more each day when it came to Posey.
Which was freaking weird, if you asked me.
“Come on, get in,” I called, pointing up to the sky. “It’s going to rain again soon. And the forecast calls for hail tonight. You’re gonna get pelted.”
Posey stopped walking, but didn’t look at me. She ducked her head, but couldn’t hide behind her hair, because it was still knotted at the back of her head. “I don’t care.”
I gripped my steering wheel with white knuckles to keep from staring at her. Seriously, I didn’t get why she always let her hair hang over her face. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She looked like a sculpture carved out of marble, or something. Gorgeous.
Shifting my eyes to the road ahead of us. “Another car’s coming. Get in.”
Her blue eyes flashed. “No.”
“Posey, it’s October in Washington.” I raised my eyebrows. “Rain. Clouds. Cold. More rain. Any of this ringing a bell? Let me take you home.”
She sucked on her lower lip, and glanced at the car slowly approaching. “I walk every day, Drew.”
Following her gaze, I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “Seriously, if that’s someone from the school, I’m busted. You’d better get in.”
Growling, Posey let her backpack slide down to her hand, then dragged it around my car. Once she’d jerked the door open and dropped into the passenger’s seat, she glared at me through the corner of her eye. “Drive already.”
Laughing at my victory, I pulled back onto the road, spitting gravel. We sped through the center of Twisted Tree, passing the turn off for the Coulters’ house in a blur.
Posey looked up. “You missed my turn.”
“Hey, if we’re gonna skip school, we may as well make it count.” I looked at her and grinned, pleased when her cheeks pinked. “Come on, you don’t really want to go home, do you?”
Posey shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “No. Not really.”
“Then let’s go hang out.” I sped up as the rain started to come down against the windshield. “I’ve got a place I want to show you.”
She crossed her legs, and I found myself looking at the slivers of ivory skin showing through the holes in her jeans. “Won’t you get in trouble, Golden Boy?”
“No more trouble than you will.” I laughed. “Besides, I’ll get us back to the library before Mr. Kingston checks on us. I doubt my teachers will even notice I’m gone for my last two periods. No worries. Mac will cover for me.”
“Must be nice.”
She went to pull her hair from its ponytail. “Having a friend to bail you out.”
I swallowed. I liked being able to see Posey’s face. “He and I have been friends since we were kids. He’d do anything for me. Don’t you have friends like that?”
“Not exactly.” She shook her head, and her hair obscured part of her face once again. “When you move from home to home, you tend to not get too deeply connected to people. You just take your stuff from place to place and reinvent yourself every time. New home, new rules, new people. There’s no time to connect with someone to the point where they’d do anything for you.”
“That sounds…” Glancing at her, I sighed. “Terrible.”
For a second, I thought she might cry. From the side, her eyes looked damp, and the pink on her cheeks increased. But as quickly as the emotion came, it disappeared. Shrugging, Posey hid behind her hair. “It’s not so bad. You get used to it. And used to trouble.”
I flipped on my blinker and turned off the main road. “So you were a trouble maker before you came to Twisted Tree?”
“I don’t know.” Posey glanced at me and offered a small smile. “I wasn’t in that much trouble, comparatively speaking. I guess a little. Some of my foster sisters and brothers were into drugs, but I never did much of that. Tried it. Didn’t like it.”
I nodded at the road. A lot of kids at TTHS took Washington State’s legalized marijuana laws too far and lit up all the damn time. Every indoor party I’d been to over the past three years turned into one giant hotbox session, so I had to sit outside the whole time. The swim team had a no drugs/no alcohol policy on the swim team, and while Coach could be bit lax on the rules, my dad bought piss tests from the drug store to surprise me with at home.
“So you weren’t into partying.” We turned down the cramped main street of Langley, a town a few miles north of Twisted Tree. I came here on occasion to escape. “What were you into back in Seattle? Who did you hang with?” Glancing at Posey, I gulped. “Did you… did you have a boyfriend, or whatever?”
She glanced at me through the corner of her eye. “Not anyone steady, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said quietly. “I mean, I hung with a couple of guys. But never anything serious. My mom had me when she was sixteen, so I’ve always been paranoid of following in her footsteps.”
We followed the line of traffic as it eked down Main Street. “So you’ve never…”
Posey’s eyes went wide. “Did you just ask me that?”
Dude, shut up! What was wrong with me?
Happy reading! xxoo