The Good, the Bad, and the Gwen | ✔️

12 - A Hot Mess

"Do you care to tell me what's going on here?" the man asks. He removes his hand from my shoulder but his gaze remains fixed. Then very slowly, they move to Hartley.

Hartley lowers the bat. "I was just, um, returning my boyfriend's baseball bat. He has a game tomorrow morning and asked me to toss it into the back seat of his car."

The man's brows arch. "By way of the windshield?"

My friend's eyes widen, a trick I've seen her pull countless times in the past. "I tripped."

"Twice?"

She gives him a sluggish blink. "I'm clumsy."

My breath grows ragged as I watch the scene unfold. It'll take a serious miracle to get us out of this mess, only I'm not a big believer in divine intervention. At least, nothing divine has ever intervened on my behalf before.

"It's no big deal." Hartley gives him a wide smile, the same smile that got her out of detention in sixth-grade when she was caught drawing lewd pictures of our math teacher with a giant boner. Judging by the look on this guy's face, I'm thinking her luck's run out. "My boyfriend's parents will fix the window. They're loaded." With an air of nonchalance, she turns toward Sully's SUV.

"Except it is a big deal," the man says, stepping in her path. "I'm an off duty police officer, and my wife and I just watched you practice your batting skills on that car." He squares his shoulders. "Are you aware that you could face up to two years in prison and a hefty fine if you're charged with Aggravated Criminal Damage to Property? Not to mention, your friends here, too." He nods toward me and Sully.

I'm not sure if he's bluffing, but fear etches its way across Hartley's face. "They're innocent, I swear! I asked them to bring me here. They didn't know what I was going to do."

The officer doesn't look convinced. "Unfortunately for you, miss, begging doesn't work with me. I take malicious destruction of property very seriously. Now, I can't speak for the owner of this vehicle, but I'd say it looks like he or she takes exceptionally good care of their belongings. I'm guessing they're not going to be happy about this either."

"Of course he won't be, he babies this stupid car!" Hartley screams, her cheeks growing red. "It's hard to get laid in the back seat when it's full of McDonald's wrappers and empty cans of Red Bull!"

He's not amused by her antics. "I'm going to ask that you not use that tone with me, young lady."

"What the fuck!" a male voice shouts over the alarm. A stocky guy with cropped brown hair races up to the smashed windshield, his dark eyes wild and nearly popping out of their sockets. I recognize him immediately from the hundreds of selfies Hartley's sent. He shuts off the car alarm before scanning the small crowd. "Did you do this?" he asks when his gaze lands on Hartley.

Hartley lifts her chin but says nothing and his scowl deepens.

"Nick! Is it your car?" A girl with a short, red bob is hot on his trail, wearing a too-tight black mini dress and heels so high they're impairing her balance. "Oh my God!" She stops short, her jaw dropping at the damage.

"You!" Hartley pulls the bat over her shoulder and lunges toward the girl.

"Woah!" The officer steps in between them and rips the weapon from Hartley's hands. "Don't you think you've gotten yourself into enough trouble?" He turns to Nick, who's much shorter than I imagined he'd be. "Is this your car?"

"Yes, it's my car!" He pushes a hand over his head and looks back at the broken window. "Damn it, Hartley! What the hell's your problem?"

My friend releases an ill-humored laugh. "I'm not the one with the problem. Tell me something ... do you have to brown bag it when you sleep with that tramp, or does skanky turn you on now?"

The redhead's mouth twists in disgust. "I'm not skanky."

"What's it to you who I sleep with?" Nick demands, ignoring his date, whose bottom lip juts into an impressive pout. "You dumped me, remember? I can hook up with whatever skank I want to."

"I am not skanky!" the redhead says again, even louder this time.

Silence ensues, and it feels like it's going to last forever.

Hartley stares at Nick. "But you're mine," she whispers.

The desperation in her voice takes me by surprise. She's never been one to show weakness. Instead, she bottles up those emotions and pretends they're not there; the same way she did when her father passed away. She never even cried at his funeral.

"And we always work things out because we belong together," Hartley says, her eyes shimmering. "I love you. And I promised I'd never love anyone but you. You promised me the same thing."

Something changes in Nick's face. His eyes dart to Sully but he says nothing.

Unease hangs over us like a black cloud. "Do you want to press charges?" the officer asks.

Everyone's holding their breath. Depending on Nick's answer, I could end up on the first flight back to Ohio—the one place in the world I don't want to be. Even juvi would be better than my house right now.

Nick shifts his weight from one foot to the next. "I guess not."

Relief rushes out of me in one long breath.

The redhead grabs Nick by the arm and swivels him to face her. "You have to press charges! If you don't, she'll just try to sabotage us again."

He jerks away from her. "I'm not pressing charges, but she is going to pay for the damages."

"Of course, I will." Hartley shoots me a look and I turn away. "Just tell me how much it costs and I'll cover it, I swear."

Nick closes his eyes and turns to Sully. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"He didn't. This was all my fault," Hartley answers. "Sully was on a date with Gwen and I forced them to bring me here."

"We tried to stop her," Sully says quietly. My stomach squirms as his eyes meet mine before dropping to the pavement.

"It's true." Hartley clears her throat. "Thank you for not pressing charges. Can we leave now?" she asks, turning to the officer.

I can't ignore the tension still lingering in the air. I examine the faces around me, my heart pounding with uncertainty.

I'm not sure what it is, but something's not right.