In the midst of our arguing, she got me to admit that I didn’t believe Adam was a bad guy or that he’d take advantage of me, and she even got me to confess that I might have a little fun. Ultimately, though, I think it was her reminding me of the consequences of not going that finally sealed the deal. If I don’t go, Adam will fail. And even though that would reflect poorly on me, I have to admit, the main reason I’m going is just that I sincerely want to help him. If he needs this class to graduate, he needs me to come along. And after what he did for me that night at Mayhem, I owe him that much.
When I finally arrive back at campus at two thirty, I look all around for him, but I don’t see him anywhere. What I do see is a black Camaro convertible in the parking lot, surrounded by girls. A blonde is sitting on the back of the topless car, and two other girls are standing by its side, framing a pair of charcoal sneakers that are propped in the open window. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out whose feet are in those sneakers, so I take a deep breath and walk over. As I get closer, the girls lift their heads to stare at me. At first, their expressions remind me of the look Leti gave me that first day in class when I told him I was a freshman and he thought I was lost. Then, hostility washes over them, like they can’t believe I’m actually coming over to talk to—gasp—Adam Everest.
I ignore them and walk right up to his sneakers, looking down at him stretched out in the backseat. He has shades pulled over his eyes and both hands behind his head. The girl sitting on the back of his car has her pink-pedicured feet resting on his stomach, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When he sees me, he slowly sits up, knocking the girl’s feet off his body. She bristles and tries to paralyze me with the poisoned daggers she’s staring, but Adam doesn’t seem to notice. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to show or not,” he says.
I use my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. “I had to run back to the dorms to get my stuff.”
He hops over the side of the car, grabbing my suitcase and tossing it into his trunk. “Cool. I’m ready to get out of here.” He looks to the girl still sitting on the back of his car, but she doesn’t budge until he holds his hand out and helps her down.
“Adam,” one of the other girls whines, “are you sure we can’t come?”
“Sorry,” he says as he hops behind the wheel. “I need to study.”
The girl looks at me, her perfectly-shaped eyebrows furrowed as I toss my backpack in the back and slide in next to Adam. “I didn’t think you were serious . . .” She takes in my bright blue leggings, my loose black T-shirt, my glasses. “But I guess you were.”
I roll my eyes. I sure as hell didn’t dress like this for her amusement. I did it to make sure that Adam kept me locked me into his memory as the nerd-girl from class, not the cute Peach from Mayhem.
With me inside, Adam’s Camaro purrs to life, and then we’re on the road, the wind threatening to make my messy bun a whole new level of messy. “So,” he says with one hand on the wheel, “you live on campus?”
“Yeah.” I tuck some loose strands of hair back into my elastic band. “Er, no. I mean . . . kinda.” Wow, smooth. This trip is already off to an epic start.
Adam pushes his shades up, which pulls his straight brown hair back too, and I’m once again left breathless over the color of his gray-green eyes. I force my gaze back to the road when he gazes over at me and asks, “How do you kinda live on campus?”
“My living situation fell through, so I’m staying with a friend of mine while I look for a place.” That’s mostly true, so I don’t feel too guilty saying it. I haven’t actually been looking for a place, but I know I need to. Dee’s Resident Assistant knows I’ve been staying in her dorm room even though it’s against the rules, and she’s been getting on our case. If I don’t leave soon, I know she’ll report it, and the last thing I want is to get Dee or Macy in trouble.
When I ask Adam if he lives on campus too, he tells me he lives in an off-campus apartment with his band mate, Shawn. I remember the way Adam licked Shawn’s face on the tour bus, and the memory makes me smile. I can only imagine what their apartment must be like. After a while, I pull out my phone and ask Adam exactly where we’re going.
“All over,” he says with an easy smile.
“Can you be more specific? I want to let some people know where I’ll be.” He raises his eyebrow at me, silent until I add, “You know, in case you decide to murder me. I want my friends to know where to look for the body.”
Adam laughs, much to my relief, and a goofy smile finally forces its way onto my face. I listen as he gives me the full itinerary. Tonight, we’ll be driving for roughly four hours before we get to the first concert venue. Tomorrow, we have a five-hour drive before we get to the second venue. Saturday, we’ve got a four-hour drive to the final venue, and Sunday, we have a six-hour drive back to school.
“Jeez,” I say. “No wonder you’re falling behind in class. That’s nuts.”
“It’s not like this every weekend,” he tells me, wrapping his black-nailed fingers around the gearshift to change gears as we merge onto the highway. “And most of the time, I’d be traveling on our tour bus, so I don’t really have an excuse.”
“You have your own tour bus?” I ask, remembering how nice it was and wondering how the band can afford it.