After a few moments, I was finally able to gather myself.
“Are you okay, Kass?” He asked again.
I nodded, more embarrassed than anything.
“Jeez, Kass, I’m so sorry. I’m used to hanging out with a different crew that's used to any crazy stuff I say.”
“It’s not that. Believe me, I’m not prudish. It just took me by surprise. God, you must think I'm such a freak. It's just, everything's happening so quickly, I felt I was on like a runaway train or something,” I finally admitted. “Up until a week ago, I still thought I hated you, and now I’m making out with you. And not wanting to stop, by the way.”
“You didn’t want to stop?” he asked, grasping onto the statement that appealed to him the most.
“Seriously? That’s all you got out of that. Yeah, I want to jump your bones. There, does that make you happy?” I asked as a wolfish grin spread across his face. “Wanting to and doing it are two separate things,” I added, wiping the grin from his face.
“What?” he asked.
“I can’t sleep with you. So, if that’s what this is all about, you’re wasting your time,” I said, trying to keep the hurt from my voice. “I promised my dad a long time ago I would wait.”
“Kass, believe me. I'd love nothing more than to move this to the next level, but it’s not why I’m with you.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Positive. Now stop trying to seduce me so I can go down the slide and hit the swings,” he teased, pulling me to my feet and dragging me off toward the playground.
“Another Dew?” Drake asked, opening up the fridge his parents kept on the far side of the garage.
“Sure,” I said from the stool I was perched on.
Drake chucked the Mountain Dew across the large space. Reaching up with one hand, I snagged it out of the air and popped the tab.
“Dude, I seriously wish this was a Bud,” Drake said, popping the tab on his own soda.
“Ha, your parents would have your ass in a sling if they caught you drinking a brew in here.”
“No shit,” he said, sitting on the stool next to me on the stage. “So, what’s up with you and that blonde babe that was here on Thursday?”
“You know, just hanging.”
“You hit'n it?” he asked in typical Drake fashion. His conquests were legendary among the other band members.
“Nah, it’s not like that, bro,” I said, trying not to let his words bother me.
“Seriously?” he asked raising an eyebrow at me. “You gone soft or what?” he asked with a double meaning.
“Screw you, douche bag,” I said, throwing my empty can at him.
“Hey, that’s cool, dude. Just leaves more for me,” he teased.
“Have at it, bro,” I said, not rising to the bait.
“What the hell? You must like Kassandra a lot,” he said.
“You knew who it was all along?” I asked, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned it earlier.
“Man, who doesn't know who she is? I was hoping it was just a passing fling or something.”
“Why would you say that?” I asked pissed.
“Dude, don’t get all pissy like a bitch. I'm just saying, maybe you’re playing with fire, that's all. She’s different than us, you know? Not to mention, the history between you two. Truthfully, I’m floored she talked her mom into letting you take her out,” he said.