He turned his head toward me and froze. I had never seen him so still—or so quiet. His shock was so thorough and intense that he actually dropped his cigarette.

“Ahh,” I cried, springing forward, lest the burning cigarette damage the car. It landed harmlessly on the asphalt, and I quickly stamped it out. “For the last time, will you get off of there?”

Adrian slowly sat up, eyes wide. He slid off the hood and didn’t seem to leave any marks. Obviously, I’d have to check it later. “Sage,” he said. “What are you wearing?”

I sighed and stared down at the dress. “I know. It’s red. Don’t start. I’m tired of hearing about it.”

“Funny,” he said. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at it.”

Those words drew me up short, and a rush of heat went through me. What did he mean? Was I so outlandish-looking that he couldn’t stop staring at the crazy spectacle? Surely… surely he wasn’t implying that I was pretty…

I promptly got back on track, reminding myself that I needed to think about the guy inside, not out here. “Adrian, I’m on a date. Why are you here? On my car?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Sage. I wouldn’t have been on your car if they’d let me into the dance,” he said. A little of his earlier awe had faded, and he relaxed into a more typical Adrian pose, leaning back against Latte. At least he was standing and less likely to do damage.

“Yeah. They generally frown on letting twenty-something guys into high school events. What did you want?”

“To talk to you.”

I waited for him to elaborate, but the only response I received was a brief flash of lightning above. It was Saturday, and I’d been around campus all day, during which he could’ve easily called. He’d known the dance was tonight. Then, inhaling the smell of alcohol that hung in the air around him, I knew nothing he did should really surprise me tonight.

“Why couldn’t it have been tomorrow?” I asked. “Did you really have to come here tonight and—” I frowned and looked around. “How did you even get here?”

“I took the bus,” he said, almost proudly. “A lot easier getting here than to Carlton.” Carlton College was where he took art classes, and without his own transportation, he’d come to rely heavily on mass transit—something he’d never done before in his life.

I’d been hoping Sonya or Dimitri had dropped him off—meaning they’d pick him up again. But of course that wouldn’t happen. Neither one of them would have brought a drunken Adrian here. “So I guess I have to take you home then,” I said.

“Hey, I got myself here. I’ll get myself home.” He started to take out a cigarette, and I gave him a stern headshake.

“Don’t,” I said sharply. With a shrug, he put the pack away. “And I have to take you home. It’s going to storm soon. I’m not going to make you walk in the rain.” Another flash of lightning emphasized my words, and a faint breeze stirred the fabric of my dress.