came out looking worked up.'
'Let go. And I'm not worked up. Not really. If you'll excuse me, I have homework-'
'Nora.' Patch spoke my name softly, yet with every intention of getting what he wanted.
'I had a fight with Marcie Millar.' I had no idea where the confession came from. The last thing I wanted was to give Patch another window inside me. 'Okay?' I said, pushing a note of exasperation into my voice. 'Satisfied? Will you please let go now?'
'Marcie Millar?'
I tried to unlace my fingers, but Patch had a different idea.
'You don't know Marcie?' I said cynically. 'Hard to believe, considering you attend Coldwater High, for one. And you have a Y chromosome, for two.'
'Tell me about the fight,' he said.
'She called Vee fat.'
'And?'
'I called her an anorexic pig.'
Patch looked like he was trying not to crack a grin. 'That's it? No punches? No biting, clawing, or hair pulling?'
I narrowed a look at him.
'Are we going to have to teach you to fight, Angel?'
'I can fight.' I tipped my chin up in spite of the lie.
This time he didn't bother restraining the grin.
'In fact, I've had boxing lessons.' Kickboxing. At the gym. Once.
Patch held out his hand as a target. 'Give me a shot. Hard as you can.'
'I'm-not a fan of senseless violence.'
'We're all alone down here.' Patch's boots were flush with the toes of my shoes. 'A guy like me could take advantage of a girl like you. Better show me what you've got.'
I inched backward, and Patch's black motorcycle came into view.
'Let me give you a ride,' he offered.
'I'll walk.'
'It's late, and dark.'
He had a point. Whether or not I liked it.
But inwardly, I was caught in a fierce game of rug-of-war. I'd been idiotic to walk home in the first place, and now I was stuck between two bad decisions: ride with Patch, or risk the chance there was someone worse out there.
'I'm starting to think the only reason you keep offering me a ride is because you know how not fond I am of this thing.' I blew out a jittery sigh, scrunched the helmet on, then swung on behind him. It wasn't entirely my fault that I was snuggled up close to him. The seat wasn't exactly spacious.
Patch made a low sound of amusement. 'I can think of a couple other reasons.'
He sped down the straightaway of the garage, gunning it toward the exit. A red-and-white-striped traffic arm and an automatic ticket machine barred the exit. I was just wondering if Patch would slow long enough to feed money into the machine, when he brought the bike to a smooth stop, jolting me even closer into him. He fed the machine, then floored the bike up onto the street above.
Patch edged his bike up my driveway, and I held on to him to keep my balance while I climbed off. I handed back the helmet.
'Thanks for the ride,' I said.
'What are you doing Saturday night?'
A moment's pause. 'I have a date with the usual.'
This appeared to spark his interest. 'The usual?'
'Homework.'
'Cancel.'
I was feeling a lot more relaxed. Patch was warm and solid, and he smelled fantastic. Like mint and rich, dark earth. Nobody had jumped out at us on the ride home, and all the windows on the lower level of the farmhouse glowed with light. For the first time all day I felt safe.
Except that Patch had cornered me in a dark tunnel and was possibly stalking me. Maybe not so safe.
'I don't go out with strangers,' I said.
'Good thing I do. I'll pick you up at five.'
Chapter 17
There was cold rain all Saturday, and I sat near the window watching it pepper down on the growing puddles in the lawn. I had a dog-eared copy of Hamlet in my lap, a pen tucked behind my ear, and an empty mug of hot chocolate at my feet. The sheet of reading comprehension questions on the side table was just as white as it had been when Mrs. Lemon passed it out two days ago. Always a bad thing.
My mom had left for yoga class almost thirty minutes ago, and while I'd practiced a few different ways of breaking the news of my date with Patch to her, in the end I'd let her walk out the door without vocalizing any of them. I told myself it was no big deal, I was sixteen and could decide when and why I left the house, but the truth was, I should have told her I was going out. Perfect. Now I was going to be carting around my guilt all night.
When the grandfather clock in the hall chimed to announce 4:30, I gladly tossed aside the book and jogged upstairs to my bedroom. I'd burned through most of the day with homework and chores, and that had kept my mind off tonight's date. But now that I was down to the final minutes, nervous anticipation overruled all. Whether or not I wanted to think about it, Patch and I had unfinished business. Our last kiss got cut short. Sooner or later, the kiss would need resolving. I had no doubt I wanted resolution, I just wasn't sure I was ready for it tonight. On top of all this, it didn't help that Vee's warning kept popping up like a red flag at the back of my mind. Stay away from Patch.
I positioned myself in front of the bureau mirror and took inventory. Makeup was minimal, reserved to a sweep of mascara. Too much tumbleweed hair, but what else was new? Lips could use some gloss. I licked my bottom lip, giving it a wet shine. That got me thinking more about my almost-kiss with Patch, and I got an involuntary rush of heat. If an almost-kiss could do that, I wondered what a full-on kiss could do. My reflection smiled.
'No big deal,' I told myself while trying on earrings. The first pair was big, loopy, and turquoise… and tried too hard. I put them aside and tried again with topaz teardrops. Better. I wondered what Patch had in mind. Dinner? A movie? 'It's a lot like a biology study date,' I told my reflection nonchalantly. 'Only… without the biology and studying.'
I tugged on matchstick jeans and ballet flats. I wrapped a Hally-blue silk scarf around my waist, up over my torso, then tied the ends behind my neck to fashion a halter-style blouse. I fluffed my hair, and there was a knock at the door.
'Coming!' I hollered down the stairs.
I did one final check in the hall mirror, then opened the front door and found two men in dark trench coats standing on the porch.
'Nora Grey,' said Detective Basso, holding up his police badge. 'We meet again.'
It took a moment to find my voice. 'What are you doing here?'
He tipped his head sideways. 'You remember my partner, Detective Holstijic. Mind if we step inside and ask you a few questions?' It didn't sound like he was asking permission. In fact, it sounded just this side of a threat.
'What's wrong?' I asked, dividing a glance between them.
'Is your mom home?' Detective Basso asked.
'She's at yoga. Why? What's going on?'
They wiped their feet and stepped inside.
