"Okay—so, thanks for the ride," I said, making no move to get out. The words to ask him why he had even stopped were on the tip of my tongue. He obviously hated me or at the very least, we weren't friends.
"You're not like I thought you would be," he finally stated. I bristled at his words. I was sick of being painted as the bad person in all this. I might not be some goody-goody like him, but I also wasn't some thug.
"Give me a break, okay? So I went to a damn party that got out of hand. In case you missed it, I'm paying my debt to society, so you can get off your high horse."
"Why did you pretend?" Josh asked.
"Pretend what?" I snapped in aggravation.
"I thought you were one of them," he said, sweeping his hand out to indicate the house next to ours.
"A house?"
He glared at me without laughing. "I assumed you were rich like Evan and the others."
"Well, you know what they say when you assume," I taunted. "What does it matter, anyway? If I was rich does that mean I deserved to be punished for something I didn't do?"
By the look on his face, it was clear Josh didn't believe I had nothing to do with trashing the beach at the party. "You're an asshole, you know that? If you would have investigated things a little closer when you were sneaking around, you would have seen that I didn't toss anything over the rail at Evan's house."
"So you say." His tone was so condescending. It was like he was trying to antagonize me into a fight.
I gnashed my teeth. "That is what I say because it's the truth. Is that why you didn't warn me you were going to call the cops?"
"What did you expect? The beach got trashed because of that party. How was I supposed to know you had nothing to do with it?"
He was infuriating. I was on the verge of telling him where he could stick his logic when something grabbed his attention over my shoulder. A small smile tugged at the corners of his ordinarily frowning mouth. I stifled a groan. Without even looking, I knew that either Butch or Buttercup was behind the current look on his face. Turning slowly so I could peer out the window, I spotted both of them standing in the backyard, soaping up their hair and washing it in the steady downpour of rain. The fact that it was the middle of the day seemed to hold no significance to them. As sad as it sounds, it wasn't a new ritual. For years Butch and Buttercup claimed rainwater made their hair smell better and gave it more shine. Oh, and of course it didn't waste water. At least they were wearing shorts and T-shirts, which gave me a small measure of comfort. They used to do it in the nude back in Huntsville until I put my foot down.
"Your parents?" he asked, watching as they took turns scrubbing each other's hair.
"Yeah, that would be Butch and Buttercup," I answered without thinking.
"Butch and Buttercup? You call your parents by their first names?" I thought it was funny that he questioned that point as opposed to their actual names.
"Yeah. Their idea more than mine. I've been calling them by their given names for as long as I can remember. When I was younger they made me do it in case I ever got lost. They figured millions of kids assumed their parents' names were Mom and Dad. They wanted me to be able to provide their names without hesitation," I answered in one long breath. I wasn't sure why I felt the need to give him the full explanation.
"That's smart. My parents would have croaked if I called them by their names. They wouldn't even let my friends do it," he said, turning back to me. "They were pretty formal that way. I would have given anything to see them let go like that," he added, looking out the window again. It was the most open conversation Josh and I had shared, and it only took Butch and Buttercup's freaky behavior to get us there.
The way he talked about his parents in the past tense hadn't escaped my attention. Maybe they had passed away. Something like that would definitely change the way a person looked at the world. I wanted to ask him, but it felt too personal. He would have mentioned it if he wanted me to know.
I was lost in my thoughts when he burst out laughing. The sudden transformation in his facial structure took me by surprise. It was the first time I'd seen him without the scowl I'd grown accustomed to. Smiling suited him. His entire face shined and his eyes sparkled with mirth.
Reluctantly, I turned away to see what my parents had done to achieve such a drastic reaction from Josh. This time I couldn't help but groan out loud at the sight of Butch stripping off his T-shirt and dancing around the yard like he was praising the god of rain or something. He made a production of washing under his arms before he and Buttercup finished up and headed back into the house. "I'm going to kill them," I muttered, reaching for the door handle. "Thanks for the ride."
Josh nodded but didn't say anything else. I sighed, climbing from the truck. Oh well. Small steps were better than none at all.
Chapter 8
With Farrah gone on a trip with her parents, the weekend seemed to drag. I felt weirdly antsy, wishing the hours away to get to Monday. I spent most of the time thinking about Josh, wondering if our short but cordial talk in his truck would change things between us. I still wanted to slug him for my mountain of community service hours, but after considering his explanation, I suppose I understood his side. That being said, I also expected him to accept the truth that I had done nothing except get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. The cold shoulder treatment needed to be over.
Monday finally arrived and I got to the patrol office to find out I had been teamed up with Josh. I gnawed my lip for a moment as Vanessa handed over my new time sheet for the week. "Is everything okay?" she asked, looking up at me.
"Oh, yeah, I was just thinking of something," I answered, smiling. The question of whether Josh and I could coexist was about to be answered.
"Okay, good. Most of the guys are tied up making preparations in case Tropical Storm Alexia turns into a hurricane."
"Is that a possibility?" I asked. Butch had mentioned the storm the night before, but according to the news it was still five days or so away if it maintained its course. I had no experience with hurricanes. A five-day warning seemed insane. Back in Kansas, a lot of the tornado warnings had come only minutes before you were screwed, if you got a warning at all.
"If it stays on track, it's a possibility. It's early in the season, but it's happened before. Don't you worry though, honey. If it gets upgraded to a hurricane, they'll probably evacuate," she reassured me. "Josh should be waiting for you," she added before answering an incoming call.