Good Girl Goes Bad

The Meeting

"Be careful," Callie warned her friend as she dropped her off. Blaire may be smart, but she did not appear to have much common sense, and this little meeting she had arranged with Dillon was not helping her case.

"Don't worry. I fought Dillon off once, I can do it again," Callie says with a wink. "I should be more worried about my mom," she adds as she grabs her backpack from the backseat of Callie's Mustang.

"Still be careful, Blaire. Carry some pepper spray or something," Callie jokes as Blaire steps out of the car.

"Don't worry Callie! I'll be fine. See you tomorrow," she closes the door at the end of her sentence and walks away, ending the conversation. Even Blaire had to admit that telling him her address wasn't the smartest thing, but it was already done. She was just going to have to make it to the meeting.

"Where in the world were you?" Blaire's mom screeched the instant Blaire stepped in her door. Her mother was standing right in front of her with her hands planted on her hips. Fire burned in her eyes and Blaire could tell she was in for it.

"I went to Callie's, Mom. I texted you and let you know," Blaire mumbles, trying to duck behind her mom.

"I never got a text," her mom replied, grabbing her by the back of the shirt. Blaire sighed and pulled out her phone, showing her mom the text.

"I told you to get a new service. Your phone doesn't get half the messages I send," Blaire mutters.

"Then maybe you should quit sending the messages," her mom growled, still furious.

"I will call you next time, okay? I'm sorry, I didn't think it would be this big of a deal," Blaire offers.

"Fine. Next time this happens, you're grounded," her mom threatens, letting go of her. Blaire runs upstairs, fixes her outfit, and touches up her hair and makeup quickly.

I'm here.

The text came in the middle of brushing her hair.

Be right there.

Blaire quickly texted back and made sure she had all the tangles out. With a glance in the mirror, Blaire ran back downstairs, only to be intercepted by her mother.

"Where are you going this late?" her mom asked in a harsh tone.

"I'm going with a couple of friends for a moonlight walk," Blaire declares, making sure nothing about her statement could be taken as a question.

"What about your homework?"

"Did it at Callie's."

"It's dark and this place is much more dangerous than Wyoming."

"I'm going with friends, Mom. And the whole point of the walk is that it's dark." With that Callie saw her mom give in, the vicious look disappearing from her face.

"Be back by ten thirty. And Blaire, try to be safe," her mom commanded. Blaire grinned and called a quick "thanks" behind her. Closing her door, she turned and tried to find Dillon. Sure enough, an old, black Volvo was sitting in the street in front of her house. She watched as the front door opened and Dillon stepped out. He was in a simple black tank top that hugged his body and sagging jeans. He was so not her type, and she so didn't care. He was hot.

"You're five minutes late," he growled, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

"Sorry, parent issues," was all she said in response. He just nodded and gestured to the path across the street. Blaire had looked at it when she moved in, decided it was perfectly placed for a jogger. Too bad she didn't jog.