I Hated You First by Rachel John

Clay

 

 

 

Parker and I hadn’t been on a road trip together in years, and it felt like we were slipping back into old times, except that I spent most of the time working on my laptop rather than trying to beat my record in Angry Birds. John only let me come on the condition that I take an online certification class while we drove home. It was one of those classes that wouldn’t let you continue to the next page until their clock said you’d spent enough time on the quiz at the bottom. I don’t think I could have physically sat through all ten hours of this class anywhere else but in the cab of a bucket truck.

“Thirty miles to Las Vegas. We might be home by midnight after all.” Parker shifted in his seat. “Do you remember the girl in our science lab I was always partnered with? Denise?”

“Junior year?”

“Yeah. I ran into her at the grocery store the other day, and she asked me out. She asked about you, though.”

Oh, that Denise. I remembered her. She had used Parker’s crush on her to try to get close to me in high school. Not cool. “So, are you going out with her?”

Parker scoffed. “No. If you were happily married and living in another state, yes, I’d totally go out with her, because she’s still hot. But no. She’s also still completely interested in stalking you. I gave her your address and the passcode to turn off your security system.”

I lightly punched him in the arm and stole a Starburst from the bag he had perched on the console. “It’s too bad you didn’t run into the other Denise. The one from college.”

Parker frowned. “No, that ship has sailed. I do still like short, angry brunettes though.”

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled for one.”

“Keep an eye out for yourself. When was the last time you dated anybody?”

“Too long.” I did not want to have this conversation with him, especially while picturing Lauren, wondering what she was up to right now. She liked us to think she was out having fun all the time, but Lauren was a homebody at heart. She was probably sitting on her couch in front of her TV, balancing dinner on her lap, wearing yoga pants, fuzzy socks, and a tank top. That’s what she’d worn to bed in high school. Not that I’d noticed or anything. I focused back on the page of technical jargon and flicked myself in the jaw for good measure.

“You getting tired?” Parker glanced at me. His sharp eyes missed nothing. “I’m good to drive the rest of the trip.”

“I’m fine. If you get tired, let me know.” I watched the countdown clock until the page let me move on. My phone, which had been sitting in one of the cup holders of the truck’s console, lit up with a text message, and when I saw Lauren’s name I immediately picked it up.

Lauren: Having fun?

Clay: Just tell me what you’re fishing for, Harwood.

There was no way she’d texted me without a motive. The Harwoods were wired for scheming, Lauren included.

Lauren: Play nice. Thanks to me, you’re sitting there and I’m not.

Clay: So you’re to blame? I’m hour 9 into a 10 hour certification class.

Lauren: Aw, that’s so sad. Tell me more.

Clay: Seriously, Harwood. What gives?

Lauren: I was just checking on you guys. I know Parker insisted on driving so I thought I’d text you.

I was smiling too much, and Parker noticed. “Who’s that?” he asked, nodding at my phone.

I froze, not sure whether to lie or not. There wasn’t anything inherently flirty in our exchange, but the fact that it existed made me hesitant to share it. I finally scrolled up to just show the last bit and read it to him, holding it out so he could see.

Parker shook his head. “She knows me well. Tell her not to worry so much.”

Clay: We’re fine. We’ll be home about midnight.

I went back to my certification and forced myself not to check my phone, though it lit up again.

The second Parker was out of the truck at the next gas station, I picked up my phone and dialed her. She answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Clay.”

“Lauren, you have about ten seconds to tell me what’s up. Parker’s pumping gas, and I do not want to have a conversation with him about why you keep texting me. Mainly because I don’t know why you keep texting me.”

She was quiet for about nine of those seconds, and then she blurted it all out. “Parker begged me to find a way to not have to go with him on the Idaho trip. And my dad, being my dad, said I was off the hook if I brought Denver to lunch this Sunday.”

Wired for scheming. All of them.

Lauren sighed. “Bringing him to my parents’ house is going to be hard enough as it is. Promise me you won’t be there with your judging eyes and snide comments. All I’m asking is for you to skip this one.”

“What if I just promise to leave the judgments at home?”

“Clay Olsen, I will end you right now.”

Her bluster had always made me laugh, and even though I felt terrible about it, I couldn’t help finding it funny now. “Oh, yeah? You’re going to kill me through the phone, darling?”

“No, I’ll wait outside your house tonight and jump you when you walk up to your door.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I could barely get the words out, I was laughing so hard. “And just a heads up, if you’re planning a surprise attack, it’s best to keep it a surprise. You’ll get better results that way.”

She growled and hung up on me, not that I could blame her. Making her mad was just too much fun. I jumped out to stretch and go use the bathroom before we hit the road again. This was our last stop before home.

Even with the massive machine we were driving, we made good time. I hadn’t decided whether or not I was listening to Lauren’s ultimatum or John’s about Sunday, but I have to say I was more than a little disappointed Lauren wasn’t lurking in the bushes when Parker dropped me off at my house just past midnight.