Heart Starter by Michelle Hercules
DANNY
My blood is boilingas I stare at my car. I even checked underneath the windshield to make sure the person responsible didn’t leave a note. Nope. The asshole just took off, hoping I’d never find out their identity.
“Danny, my man. What’s up?”
I look over my shoulder and find a freckled kid holding a red Solo cup.
“Someone hit my car and bailed.”
He whistles as he assesses the damage. “Dude, that sucks.”
“Do you have any idea who could have done it?” I ask with zero hope that there were any eyewitnesses.
“No, man. I just came out for some fresh air.”
And pot, if the stench wafting from him is any indication.
“I know who did it,” someone else pipes up.
I turn toward the guy’s voice. “I’m listening.”
“It was a blonde chick. She had a British accent. Hot as sin but as blind as a bat. I still can’t believe she managed to bump into your car.”
There are a ton of pretty blondes at the party, but I doubt many have a British accent. However, I can’t talk to every single girl who matches the description in order to find the culprit.
“Do you happen to know her name or the car she was driving?”
“Uh, I think she was driving a silver sedan, maybe an Accord? Don’t know her name though. Never seen her before.”
Great.
“Hey, I’ve heard the soccer team got a new player from England,” the freckled guy chimes in. “I actually saw her talking with Vanessa Castro not too long ago.”
“No shit. Thanks, man. That helps.”
I head back to the party, ready to confront this new girl who thought it was okay to damage my car and get away with it. Who does she think she is? I thought English people were supposed to be the epitome of good manners. Apparently not.
I’m so worked up by the time I get back to the party that I ignore anyone who attempts to say hello. I spot Andy and Puck first, but I’m in no mood to talk to them either. They’d probably try to calm me down, which is the last thing I want. I’m pissed, and I need to yell at someone.
I push my way through the crowd, going in the direction I last saw Vanessa, hoping she didn’t head someplace else. She’s still there and, what do you know, speaking with a pretty blonde who is gesturing exaggeratedly with her hands. Vanessa says something that makes the blonde laugh like she doesn’t have a care in the world. I clench my jaw hard and march in her direction.
Vanessa notices my approach first. She turns to me and smiles, giving me an opening to address her new teammate. I’ve been mulling over what I was going to say to her on the way here, but when she looks at me, I forget my spiel. The guy describing her wasn’t wrong. She’s hot all right. But that’s not what’s making me tongue-tied. I honestly don’t know what it is about her that has rendered me speechless.
“Hey, Danny. I thought you left,” Vanessa chimes in.
“I was going to, but someone rear-ended my car.” I turn to the blonde. “You don’t happen to know anything about it, do you?”
Her pretty blue eyes widen. “That was your car?”
“Yes,” I grit out. “Does it matter? You damaged it and left.”
“Uh, what’s going on here?” Vanessa butts in.
“Oh God. I messed up. I had an issue with the car’s gear and crashed into a vehicle that was parked nearby. But I left a note. You didn’t get my note?” Her voice rises to a pitch. She sounds sincere, but I don’t really know her. She could be lying to save face.
“There was no note,” I reply.
“I tucked it under the windshield wiper.”
“That’s the first place I looked.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not lying. I swear.”
“Are you saying someone simply got rid of your note? To what end?”
“I don’t know. There were some drunk wankers nearby.”
“Danny, come on. If Sadie is saying she left you a note, she left you a note,” Vanessa intervenes.
Damn it. I’m letting my emotions get the better of me. I’d usually give the other person the benefit of the doubt. This evening has just been a clusterfuck of bad surprises.
“Fine. Don’t believe me if that’s what you want to do,” Sadie retorts. “I’ll give you my information again. Get your phone out.”
I was ready to apologize, but her bossy tone rubs me the wrong way. Why am I suddenly the bad guy here? There was no note!
“Really? No ‘please’ or anything?”
She narrows her eyes. “What exactly do you want from me?”
“Maybe a fucking apology, for starters?”
“I said I was sorry.”
I scoff. “Uh, no you didn’t.”
“I said it in the note.”
“And we’ve already established I never got your note.”
“Jesus Christ.” Vanessa throws her hands up in the air. “Can we please move on from the note that wasn’t there? I swear to God, if you two become a thing, this is the worst meet cute ever.”
Sadie and I wince at the same time and turn our attention to Vanessa.
“Are you mental? We’re not going to become a thing,” Sadie retorts, then turns to me. “No offense.”
“Ditto,” I reply curtly, not understanding why her comment annoyed me.
Even if I hadn’t sworn off romantic relationships, she’d be the last person I’d date. Yes, she’s gorgeous, and don’t get me started on her accent and raspy, sexy voice. But her attitude spells trouble. I’ve dated one crazy chick already; don’t need to repeat that same mistake twice in a row.
I need to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. Phone out, I glance at her. “Number?”
“I haven’t gotten around to getting an American number yet.” She takes my phone from my hand even though I didn’t offer it to her. “But I’ll give it to you anyway. You can WhatsApp me.”
Not wanting to sound like an ass, I bite my tongue and don’t complain about her rudeness.
“Here.” She returns my phone.
I glance quickly at the information she wrote before pocketing it again.
“And for the record, I am truly sorry I busted your car,” she continues.
She’s remorseful, that much I can tell—or she’s an amazing actress. I’d try to make her feel less guilty about the whole deal, but I swallow my words of reassurance. I guess tonight, I’m not a nice guy.
“I’ll let you know how much you owe me.”
* * *
