Unfinished Business

4

Eight years earlier

My first day of senior year at a brand new school went exactly how I expected it to. Even though I dressed down in a pair of light wash jeans and a fitted blue blouse, I still stuck out in the crowd. I mean, hell, I was a new face, which doesn't happen often in Darlington, and people knew I wasn't from around here whenever I opened my mouth. I've been called a yankee today more times than I can count.

The people here were just...strange. Every person I walked past wanted to speak to me, and it's not that I'm a bitch, but I don't go out of my way to say hello to every person I walk past, and that didn't go over so well with the people here at Darlington High. They seemed to hate the fact that I didn't want to talk about myself.

But finally, during trigonometry, my last class of the day, I get a breath of fresh air. Wyatt is sitting in the back of the room, eyes glued directly to me as I search for a seat. He points to the one in front of him, and when he watches my cheeks turn red, he puts a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling.

"You must be Macey Taylor," he says in that sweet southern drawl of his. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"And you're Wyatt Brooks," I reply. He's not wearing a cowboy hat today. Instead, he's got a pair of light wash jeans that are fitted to his body perfectly and a t-shirt with some sort of logo I don't recognize.

"You've heard about me?"

I shrug. "I don't know much other than your name and that you can sing. I saw you at The Starlighter."

He smiles. "I know. I saw you too." My body is hot all over, prickling every inch of my skin as he scans my face, then glances down at my blouse. "You certainly know how to make an entrance."

I arch a brow. "Were you just checking out my breasts?"

Now it's his turn to get red, and for the first time, he's flabbergasted. "What? No, I...my mama raised me better than that. Not that they aren't nice, but I wasn't lookin, I just meant that you don't dress like the other girls down here."

Jesus, of course he wasn't looking. Why did I think he was checking me out? Getting this boy to be impressed by me is starting out terribly.

"Oh, right. Well,  I guess I have a lot to learn about small towns. I'm from New York City. My dad lost his old job and got a new one down here, but I should have done my research prior to moving." My mouth is spewing utter word vomit, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I'm utterly mortified.

Thankfully, the teacher comes into the classroom, but I don't want to stop talking to Wyatt, and he must feel the same because he leans forward and says, "I don't think research will help you out. You need an insider that knows the place, like really knows it, and you just so happen to be in luck."

I can't hide my smile. "How so?"

"Because you're lookin at your tour guide. We can start after class if you ain't busy."

***

After grabbing my things from my locker, I meet Wyatt out front and follow him to his truck. It's a blue ford pickup, and he stares at it like it's his pride and joy. "My parents just bought me it for Christmas. It's used, but it does the job."

"It's nice," I say and go to grab the handle, but he jumps in front to stop me, pulling the door open himself.

"Don't ever reach for the handle if you're ridin' with me. It's offensive." He smiles again, and I'm so short of breath from the close proximity that I don't even realize three other people have joined us.