How can I hide my neck?

Also, what the fuck?

I’m silver on the inside, so why did I have this reaction to silver against my skin?

None of those fantasy nerds covered this on the forums.

I hear knocking, Reaper barking.

Shit shit shit shit.

“Ian Pedretti,” I hear Scarlett say. “How are you?”

I open the bathroom door and dart into my room to grab my bag. I briefly consider a scarf.

“I’m good. How are you? Nice to see you,” Ian says.

Where are all my goddamn scarves?

“You sure you want to do this?” Scarlett asks, raising her voice to make sure I can hear it. “You know, I’m currently unattached.”

Forget it.

“Hey,” I say, hurrying down the stairs. “Hey.”

Ian kneels in the foyer petting Reaper, who looks about the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Tongue out, tail wagging.

“Hi,” Ian says.

“Hi.”

Everything is sweating. I think my shins are sweating.

They are. My shins are sweating. These jeans are damp.

“I’ll get my shoes,” I say, shuffling to the laundry room to grab my heels. I stumble as I put them on, all my grace gone from me.

When I walk back to the front door, Scarlett sports a smug grin. Because she can tell. She knows.

I’m a mess.

Ian stands, and the disruption of pets really pisses off Reaper, who, rightfully in this case, takes it out on me. He growls at me, bares his teeth.

“All right, all right, I’m going,” I say. I turn to Ian. “Ready?”

He nods, holds the door open for me.

“Have fun,” Scarlett says, kicking my heel.

I look back at her before leaving, and she’s smiling, but her eyes are wet. They tug at something inside me, and suddenly I don’t want to leave her.

But then Reaper barks at me. I throw up the peace sign and step outside.

Ian parked in the street, and as we cross the yard, there are a few seconds of nothing before he asks me, “Where’s the bottle?”

I look at him. He’s serious. “I thought you were trying to be clever. I didn’t think you actually wanted it back.”

“Did you recycle it at least?”

“No. I smashed it and then threw all of the broken glass on public playgrounds.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, opening the car door for me.

“Yeah. Then I went to the beach and shanked a few dolphins.”

“Did you shout, ‘Fuck the planet!’ while you were doing it?”

“Of course,” I say.

He laughs, closing my door and coming around the front of the car. It’s a sedan, and it’s too small for him. He makes it look like a clown car.

On the way to the bowling alley, we listen to music and don’t talk much, and that’s fine. I try to think back to high school, if he ever picked me up, if I’ve ever been alone in the car with him before. I guess he was dating Kelly by the time we could drive.