Forks

by A.E. Davis

My door flew open.

  I lifted my purse, about to hit whatever was trying to get me.

  “Whoa, tiger,” he laughed, rearing back away from me.

  “Oh my God!” I stared into Vincent’s laughing face. “You scared me!”

  “I know.” He widened his eyes. “You should have seen your face,” his deep voice rumbled in his chest, as he continued to laugh hysterically.

  I narrowed my eyes, half-tempted to pull out my zapper and use it against him. “That was not funny.” I pushed against his chest but he didn’t even budge.

  “Oh, come on,” he said, his laughter evaporating. He stood back, his gaze assessing and he let out a low whistle. “Don’t you clean up nice?”

  I wasn’t sure if he was messing with me or not but my face warmed from the compliment. “Thanks…I think,” I muttered, embarrassed.

  He ducked his head back into the car and his sandy blonde hair fell forward over his brow—his face serious. “So, am I too late?”

  I swallowed hard, turning my head, not able to keep eye contact. He looked really good in his black suit. “Too late for what?” my voice came out barely above a whisper.

  He placed his finger under my chin and turned my face back towards his. “To do this…” He leaned closer.

  Lights flashed and a horn blared.

  I jerked back.

  He swore, and stepped back so I couldn’t see him anymore.

  Flustered, I lifted my hand to shield my eyes against the bright lights.

  The lights snapped off.

  Blinking, my eyes slowly came back in focus.

  “There you are!” Glinda yelled. She slammed her car door and ran over to the passenger side of the car. “I call shotgun,” she yelled over the top and jumped inside.

  “You look great,” I said. Her face sparkled in the dim overhead light. She looked like Cinderella. Her gown was a light blue, with a full skirt. I noticed it was also a very modern gown, like a real prom dress. I suddenly felt like her ugly stepsister.

  “So do you!” she gushed enthusiastically and then stuck her head out the door. “Vincent come on, we’re already late.”

  “He’s coming?” I gaped in shock.

  She spun around and adjusted her skirts. “Yeah, is that cool?” Her china blue eyes glittered.

  “Of course,” I said, recovering.

  His head popped in my door. “You going to let me in?”

  “Yeah,” I croaked and moved forward so he could get in the back seat.

  He climbed inside.

  I shut my door. “So where are we headed?” I put the car in drive.

  Vincent leaned forward, his head beside mine. “To La Push,” he said his breath warm against my neck. I shivered in spite of the heat.

  “Okay.” I waited. Neither of them said anything. “Which way do I go?” I asked.

  Glinda giggled. “I forgot you don’t know.”

  Vincent lifted up a piece of my hair, his fingers twirling the end. “Make a left and follow 101 down toward Bogachiel Way and then make a left on 110 which is the same as La Push Road.” He dropped my hair and sat back in the seat, which I was glad for. I didn’t think I could drive with him touching my hair like that. It was very distracting.

  “Vincent, doesn’t Amber look pretty?” Glinda asked, shifting in the seat so she could see in the back.

  “Yeah, she does,” he agreed, his voice gruff.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror and he was staring right at me. “You guys.” My face burned. I gripped the steering wheel tighter—my heart beating from my chest. “Glinda looks incredible.”

  “Thanks,” she beamed.

  I noticed Vincent didn’t agree with me and for some reason this made me blissfully happy.