A Boy Like You (Like Us Book 1)(21)

"Don't get in that car, Joss," Wes says, tipping my danger scales instantly.

Lowering my brow, I do my best to scare him, smiling just enough that I  feel like the devil himself has taken over my body. "Stop me," I say,  climbing in quickly and slamming the door shut, my fists slamming down  on Kyle's dash.

"Go, go, go!" I scream.

Kyle doesn't hesitate, spinning his tires and kicking up dust and rock  that has the already-angry crowd now getting out of their cars ready to  attack him. They're too slow though, and he's peeling down the dirt  drive and through the exit in seconds. I crawl up on my knees and hug  the back of my seat, looking through the window and counting until I see  Wes's truck pull out behind us.

"He's coming. You've got at least seven seconds on him," I say, turning  back to face the empty roadway ahead while Kyle speeds toward Fairfax.

Farmland hugs us on both sides of the road, and the rumble of Kyle's motor echoes loudly, filling our car.

"We need fast music," I yell, flipping through stations on his radio  until something good finally comes in, Foo Fighters blasting through his  speakers. I pull my sweatshirt over my head so I'm only wearing my thin  tank top, and I push my body out my window, sitting on the frame of the  door and holding my sweatshirt by the hood like a flag.

"Woooooo!" I scream, pieces of my hair flying loose from my hair band  and slapping at my face. "They're getting closer, Kyle. You better press  that shit to the floor!"

Kyle looks up at me as I lean into the window, and laughs. "Joss, this is as fast as this car has ever gone!"

The car swerves as he looks back to the road, and my body shakes with  the jerk of the tires along the shoulder of the road. The thrill of  almost flying free fills my body with adrenaline, and I go from  terrified to high in one heartbeat.

The lights of Wes's truck behind us are all I see. He's flashing them  and honking, and Kyle and I are laughing harder. I push myself to sit on  the door frame again and hold my sweatshirt high, finally letting the  hood slip from my fingers and watching as my shirt sails through the  air, smacking against one of Wes's headlights on its rapid decent to the  roadway.         

     



 

"Oops!" I say, covering my mouth and laughing.

"We're not going back to get that," Kyle says, each time he takes his  eyes from the road, swerving more, sending more of that wonderful drug  through me.

"Joss!"

I lean back, my fingers gripping the roof of Kyle's car while I look to  see who's yelling my name. Wes's head is out his driver's side window,  and it looks like Levi's holding his wheel and pressing the gas.

"That's not very safe, Wes!" I shout, unable to be serious for more than a second, laughter taking over my chest quickly.

"Joss, make Kyle stop the car!"

"He wants you to stop the car," I say, leaning down so Kyle can hear me.

"Tell him to fuck off," Kyle says, leaning forward against the wheel,  trying to find one more level, to push his Impala just a little faster.

"Kyle says to fuck off!" I howl.

Wes purses his lips and slams his palm against the outside of his door, leaning into his cab again, defeated.

That's right, Wesley Christopher whoever the fuck you are. You are not our parent, and you can fuck off!

The lights from town are but a bright haze off in the distance behind  us, which makes the stars above even more powerful. With my arms  stretched out, I lean back and look at the harsh line where the clouds  end and the swirls of stars begin. It's beautiful, and I want to live in  this feeling forever, never to come home. I'll disappear in that sky.

I let my eyes start to close under the lull of the wind beating against  my face from our sprint along the highway when the car swerves once  more, and I feel my legs slide too far.

The rush hits my veins instantly. It's good. It's amazing. It's chilling.

It's death.

It all happens so slowly, the stars above me sliding into beams of light  as the car beneath me fights to grip the road and my body gives itself  over to chance. Somewhere in the middle-I decide I don't want to lose.  My fingers are frantic, my arms frenzied as I hunt for something to hold  onto, for my balance, and any way out of this that doesn't end with my  body on the road.

And then Kyle's car begins to pull to the left, the rough dirt of the  shoulder taking it, pulling it into its control while Kyle struggles  with the wheel. The car is losing. Kyle is losing. I am losing. I am  going to flip from the vehicle; I can feel my legs losing their grip and  my body sliding more off balance. I open my mouth to scream in terror  just as Wes's arms wrap around me. He's holding onto his open door, his  brother now in the driver's seat, taking over control of his truck while  he reaches for me. He kicks off from his truck, pulling my body against  his tightly as we both roll along the sharp gravel of the road and into  the tall grass and irrigation canal of the adjacent farm.

Everything mutes, but the sound of Wes breathing. My fingers are deep in  his back and sides, my face flat against his chest, my elbows bleeding  and my legs skinned and bruised. His chest rises and falls in fast  pants, and his hands keep a firm hold on me.

It feels like we lie here forever, like hours have passed before my  senses return. I hear my name, Taryn's voice, and the sound of steam  pouring from Kyle's car. TK's the first to find us.

"Is she okay?" he asks.

"I think so," Wes's voice vibrates against my ear, his chest still  keeping its rhythm. Are we dead? Did we die? I cling to him harder,  pressing my ear against him, searching for the beat of his heart, but I  can't hear anything over my own. I feel his hands run slowly up and down  me, though, and I know he's okay.

"You're bleeding, Wes. Fuck, man … we need to get you to the ER," TK says.

"That's her blood. I'm … I'm okay. But she's hurt. It's her arms. Can you  see? I can't let go," Wes says, and everything inside of me clings to  those last words.

I can't let go.

"Yeah, man. Hang on. I think she's okay," TK says, kneeling down until  his gaze meets mine. "Hey, Joss. You're okay. I'm just going to look at  your arms, yeah?"

I shiver at his touch and grip Wes harder, suddenly living eight years  in the past-my dad's car wrecked, my family ruined, my friends  horrified, everyone looking at me. Wes's hold is tight, and his chin  comes to rest over my head as I lay on him, his body the only thing  between the ground and me.

"It's okay, Joss. Let him look. I'll stay. I'm right here," he whispers against my face.

It's okay. I'll stay.

I loosen my grip, letting TK roll my arms side-to-side one at a time,  taking his own shirt and wrapping it around one of my elbows to stop the  bleeding.         

     



 

"She's going to need to clean that up, so it doesn't get infected, but  it doesn't look broken or anything. Maybe she hit her head though?  Wes … we should take her in," he says.

"I know," Wes whispers against me, and I grow rigid and clutch him again.

"Oh shit! Joss! Joss!" Kyle's voice is frantic and his run turns into a  stumble at my side as he falls to his knees and pulls me from Wes's  grasp. "Joss, oh fuck, Christ! I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Please say  you're okay," Kyle cries, holding me to him.

"What were you thinking?" Taryn yells, not hesitating to shove Kyle,  even though I'm in his hold. I take the distraction as an opportunity to  retreat back to Wes, who is now sitting with his knees bent, picking  debris from his clothes and skin. When he sees me scurry toward him, he  pulls me in.

"I don't know. I … fuck, Taryn. I could have killed her," Kyle says,  fighting against himself to find his balance. He stands in the center of  us all, his body swaying in circles, his hands folded on his forehead  as he looks at his car. "Shit! There's no way I'm getting that home."

"There is no way you are driving anything home," Wes growls, holding me and lifting my body to a stand with him.

"I know, I know. You're right, man. I'm so sorry. Joss! Joss … " Kyle  breathes, stepping into me, reaching for my face. Before he can get  close enough, though, Wes turns me, putting his body between Kyle's and  mine.

"Do not touch her!" Wes shouts, his finger pointing from Kyle to his  truck. "Get your ass in the back of the truck. We'll figure out how to  get your car tomorrow."

"Don't keep her from me, asshole. I need to see her and know she's  okay," Kyle says grabbing Wes's arm, only to be shaken off onto the  ground.

"You can see her tomorrow. You're done tonight," he says, anger radiating from every move he makes.

"I did this," I say, my voice almost croaking out quietly behind him,  surprising him-surprising everyone. "Don't be angry at him. I did this.  I'm the one who always does it. I didn't have to get in the car. I  didn't have to sit on the window. Be angry at me."