Out of the Woods | ✓

06 | greeks & geeks

Driving down an unknown boulevard in the passenger seat of Miles Fox's Thunderbird was not how Jensen expected her first day in Hollywood to go.

And if she told Liberty, she was certain she would never hear the end of it. Which is why, the moment she got in the car, she decided Liberty would never know about the ride in the Thunderbird. For Jensen's sake.

Miles was an annoyingly good driver. One hand on the top of the steering wheel, and one dangling over the edge of his door. Miles Fox unwittingly looked as if he was at a cover shoot almost a hundred percent of the time, Jensen decided.

The first couple of minutes were silent—not awkward, but silent all the same. Jensen stared at the scenery around her. Lots of buildings painted in vibrant colours. The sky was so blue it could've been in a Pixar movie. Frankly, everything about the streets of Hollywood were like they were plunked down straight from the sets of her favourite films. Jensen was in the heart of her favourite cinematic masterpieces.

"So, what got you into a fight with Hugh?" Miles raised his voice so Jensen could hear him over the wind flying past their ears.

"Is that the reason you picked me up?" Jensen asked as her curls hit her cheeks. She did her best to play it off like she hadn't jumped at the broken silence. "To ask that?"

"I picked you up because you looked lost, Rhodes," Miles said. His brown hair flopped in the wind. "I'm curious."

"How much of it did you hear?"

"How do you know I heard anything?"

Miles looked at Jensen, which made her heart skip a beat. Not because she was flattered. Because she wanted him to keep his eyes on the road or Miles was going to end up even more like James Dean. And Jensen didn't want to be a part of that.

"You might be a good actor," Jensen said, "but you're not good at pretending you're not laughing. At least away from the camera."

"You told him to fuck off really politely," Miles said. "That's all I heard. I didn't hear why, but I could probably guess he was being a dick."

"Hugh wasn't putting on a show for me?" Jensen asked. "I don't feel special anymore."

Miles laughed. "Do you have University Greeks in Canada?"

"Yes."

"Well, Hugh Gardener is that fraternity where every douchebag in it fucks anyone they can get their hands on and they throws trashy parties that get shut down by campus police," Miles said. "The kind of fraternity that somehow still runs even when the brothers have a collective IQ of 69." Miles frowned—his lips pursed slightly. "Don't think too much into that last part, I just needed a low number."

"You've described most of the fraternities I went to school with," Jensen said. "What are you comparing Hugh's Greeks to, exactly?"

"Me, of course," Miles said. Jensen laughed, and he smiled. "I'm the cool fraternity who gives pretty girls rides home."

Jensen was sure she imagined him look at her.

No, she was certain she imagined it.

Miles continued, "And I shit talk other frats. My fraternity has a half decent overall IQ. Gets along with the sororities and not because they want to get in their pants."

"Sounds like a half decent fraternity," Jensen said.

"Was that sarcasm?"