First of all, hi, I'm back. waves enthusiastically*. And I come with an
offering *g* - no, not like Greeks, it's not a Trojan horse or anything.
I'm almost through with the first draft of this fic, so I dare sending out
the first part.
Hope you'll enjoy what I've done after such a long time. And yes, I've been reading through "Wild Days" the last couple of weeks and intend to continue it as soon as possible. Bear with me - okay. And thanks for being so patient with me.
FIC: The Driving Lesson
Author: Jill Disclaimer: nope, not mine, never will be; if I could I'd claim Gale though *g* Rating: R Pairing: B/A Category: Angst, Romance, Drama - all the good stuff Feedback: oh yes, please send it to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de Spoilers: none really, this is complete AU Dedication: to Ducks, Gem, Vatrixsta and Trammie. By reading through your fics the last weeks you made me see the beauty of B/A fiction again.
My most humblest thanks go to my beta-readers, Jade, Kay and Kristen. You rock girls!!!
I got the idea for this fic by - go figure - a Slash-story. It's called "Sleep While I Drive" by Jenn ( - the story is Clex (Smallville), just to warn you. If you are a fan of Clex - read it now. It's phenomenal.)
Chapter 1 (of 4)
"You're home."
That's all he said when I came back from school. Because of a heat wave the teacher let us go early, so I wasn't quite sure how he could have known I'd be there just past noon. Of course, we're talking about the guy who always seemed to know what I was doing long before I did. It's more than a little disconcerting.
He just stood there, legs crossed at his ankles, clad in black, black silk shirt, black leather pants, black boots, a small smirk lifting the right corner of his mouth. And he was watching me, in that special way of his that made me want to squirm.
Of course, I wasn't squirming. No way I would give him the advantage to see me squirm. It was bad enough that I felt my face flush and that the redness was spreading to my neck and ears. Damn.
"Uh - hi." And wasn't that vocal of me? "What are you doing here?"
He took a drag off his cigarette, a very slooooow drag, then let it drop and deliberately stepped on it, glancing at the tip of his foot while he made a slow squeezing motion with it. He didn't look up when he said, "I was waiting for you."
By that time my heart was fluttering and my stomach was flip-flopping. "Ah," was all I could manage.
Oh boy.
He finally looked up again and one of his dark brows drew up. "You look a little hot." And he was looking so damned cool himself, for a moment I wanted to slap him.
"Yeah, you know how it is. Heat wave and all," I babbled, close to slapping myself now. Could I sound more idiotic? More like the teenager I unfortunately still am? And here was this hunky guy making my knees weak and my heart stutter .
Oh boy.
"So," he said slowly, leaning back against the door of his black Mustang, "you're done with school?"
"For today, yeah." And soon forever. At least where high school was concerned. Of course, my parents expected me to go to college, as did my best friend. Months ago when the finals were just something far away on the horizon, she had started talking about what college we were going to attend. I wasn't really listening, I have to admit, but I had still listened enough to realize how serious the whole college-business was for her.
Not that I could really think about college right now, because strong thighs clad in leather pants were getting all the attention I could muster. Boy, did the guy look good in them.
I quickly blinked and did my best to veil my thoughts. "What about you?" What about you???? Did I actually ask that question? I wished the earth would open up and swallow me whole that very instant. I wasn't quite sure what the guy did, but just from looking at him I knew that he had to be out of school for some years.
He chuckled slightly, "Wanna go for a ride?"
Doing my best not to let my surprise show, I tilted my head, "Now?" Okay, something was going on here. He never asked me on a ride before. Sure, he showed up now and then, looking at me in that strange way that made me go all gooey inside, made me shiver with his voice like hot chocolate fudge, but then disappeared without ever revealing his identity.
Fact was, I didn't even know his real name.
He didn't reply to my question about going now. Instead he turned around, slipped into his car, propping one elbow on the side door and looked at me expectantly.
It's really embarrassing that I have to admit I was inside of the car in less than a second, the cool breeze of the air-conditioning feeling incredible on my dampened skin, the soft surface of the leather feeling like a lover's touch. Not that I knew how that felt like, mind. And how embarrassing is that admission for an eighteen year old girl these days?
I sighed before I could stop myself, then cleared my throat. "What's going on?"
He shrugged and started the ignition, then pulled out of the driveway of our house and onto the street. We were about four blocks away from my house, when he spoke again. "You live with your Mom?"
That surprised me. How did he know that? Why would he be interested? Okay, so I'm not that dense. The guy was obviously interested, but knowing about my Mom? "Uh . yeah."
"What about your dad?"
I shrugged, trying to keep calm. "He's in New York. Living with his current girlfriend." I still hadn't quite gotten over the fact that my parents were divorced, even though it's been four years since they dropped their little bombshell. But even more difficult to accept was the fact that both of them were moving on nicely. Dad with a number of girlfriends I had lost count of, and my mother . she'd been dating this guy on and off for the past two years, but the last three months it seemed to become more serious. He had even spent the night.
And don't ask how much that one grossed me out! It's hard enough to think of your parents doing . it. But your mom with a man who's not your dad? Believe me, it multiplies the gross-factor to the unlimited. And she was smiling all the time, radiating all this good mood around herself . making me sick!
"That's harsh."
Oh, right. He was still here. Or rather I was still with him. Thinking about my parents is an easy distraction. "Oh, well," I downplayed, "you learn to live with it. What about yours?"
"Mine?"
"Parents. Your parents. Weren't we talking about them."
"Oh." He flushed a little, the first time I had seen his calm demeanor slip, and it made me suck in a sharp breath. He had been in most of --- okay, in all --- of my dreams lately, the aloof hero, cool, strong, this human side made him a lot more . real. It was suddenly a lot easier to talk to him.
"Yeah. So, what about them?"
He shrugged. How well I knew that gesture. "My father and I . stopped talking to each other a while ago."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. After that last shouting match it's probably better for everyone involved. As for my mother . she's never tried to go against my father's wishes in her life."
"Not even for her son?" I wanted to bite my lips the moment the words were out.
But surprisingly he didn't seem to mind. "No. Not even for me." With that the subject was obviously closed.
I frowned at his profile for a moment - he has a really lovely profile by the way - then turned back to look out the front window only to see that we were close to the city limits already. "Where are we going?"
"Where do you want us to go?"
Huh? "I thought you were taking me somewhere." Yes, I sounded a little dumbfounded, but . wouldn't you?
"I am. I'm just not sure where."
Uh-huh. "So you . don't have, like, a plan?"
"Nu-huh."
"That's . ah . interesting."
A grin flashed over his face making it . Geez, maybe I was developing a tonsillitis or something, because my throat was incredibly tight all of a sudden. Was it even allowed for a guy to look that good?
"Interesting, yeah," he agreed.
"Oh . I . ah . really need to call my mom. She doesn't even know where I am."
"Go ahead." He pulled a tiny cell phone from his pocket and handed it to me, our finger tips brushing in the process. The touch sent shivers right down my spine.
Fumbling with the buttons and trying to hide my reaction to us touching at the same time, I dialed the number of my mother's gallery and waited. She opened it when we moved here, right after my parents finalized their divorce, and it turned out to be a big success.
"Summers?"
"Hey mom," I chirped, trying to sound natural and relaxed while being anything but. "It's me."
"Buffy. Is something wrong?"
I frowned. Why did she always expect something was wrong when I called. "No. Everything's fine. I just wanted to tell you that I'll be . out for a while."
"What about school?"
She sounded worried. And yes, there had been a time when she had reason to. Right after I found out my parents were going to get a divorce, I got a little crazy and . did some stupid things. In the end they got me expelled from my old school. But I'm past that, and she sure as hell should know that. "School is over. They let us go early because of the heat wave."
"Oh. I see. But honey . what about Dawnie?"
"What about her?" I didn't try to hide my exasperation this time. "She's not a kid anymore. She's almost fifteen. She'll be glad to be on her own for a while."
"Well . you're probably right," she agreed hesitantly. "But give her a call so she won't worry."
I rolled my eyes. Mothers can be so dense sometimes. My little sister never worries about me. "I will," I promised nevertheless.
"Good. Have fun, honey. I love you. Oh . and Buffy . I'll not be home until late. Greg and I are going out for dinner. He says there's something important he needs to talk about. Oh, Buffy . this could be what we've been waiting for!
WE? I almost snapped the word at her, but stopped myself the very last moment. Greg could go to hell as far as I was concerned. Dawn hated him too. At least over that we agreed. Greg was an asshole, but if I understood my mother correctly, he was going to pop the question tonight.
Suddenly college looked more and more tempting.
*****
By the time I finished my call with Dawn we had already left the city limits. I was still seething from my mother's revelation about Greg's intentions and was starting out of the window with what had to be a stony expression. Landscape was flying by but I wasn't paying attention, until the car slowed down all of a sudden, then stopped and the ignition was turned off. A moment later something was dangling in front of my face.
I blinked twice before I managed to focus on the object. It was a key. Or more precisely - the car key.
"Huh?" I managed - but barely.
"It's your turn."
I blinked again. "My turn?"
"You can drive, right?"
"Ah . sure," I replied quickly, grabbing the key before he could pull it away. No way I was going to admit that I didn't have a driver's license yet. It was a constant discussion between Mom and me. She thought I wasn't ready for it, not responsible enough - I thought she was simply being stubborn and ridiculous. We hadn't been able to solve the dilemma so far.
He was climbing out of the car and I scooped over behind the wheel, struggling with the seat to move it forward (waaaaay forward), so I could reach the gas and break and . oh . the car had a stick. Ooops. I was bad enough with an automatic, but a stick .
I cleared my throat when he climbed back in. "Ah . it's got a stick."
"Sure. It's a classic."
Obviously the explanation was sufficient for him. And not wanting to embarrass myself again, I just nodded. "Oh . of course. A classic," I added weakly.
"Buffy." It was the first time he had said my name and I shivered involuntarily. He had that breathless way of using it, almost like a caress, as if the air slipping through his lips was touching my skin, breezing over it, letting goose bumps rise everywhere it reached.
"Yeah." It wasn't more than a breath.
"You can drive - right?"
"Ah ." What to do, what to do? I decided it was time to tell the truth. "I didn't exactly drive a stick before." Okay, so half-truth.
"There's really nothing to it," he replied, and the smile came back on his lips, slipping through my skin, into my gut.
Oh boy.
"Start the ignition."
I did, and the car purred to life, making me wonder how much time he spent caring for the car. It's a classic, he'd said. So it was probably old - just well kept.
"Okay." His voice was low, soothing, and velvety smooth. "Now . press down on the clutch. It's the one on the left.
"Left - right," I gritted out between clenched teeth, stepping on the pedal.
"Good." There was that smile again. And I was supposed to keep my attention on the car. How cruel is that? "Now - see this?" He pointed at the stick in the middle between us. "It's not a problem to find the right gear. It's all written here. Reverse, first, second, third, fourth. Put in first."
My tongue slipping out between slightly opened lips, I shoved the stick forward. "Okay, got it - I think."
"Buffy."
I took a deep breath and turned my head. "Yeah."
This time it wasn't just a lifting of his lips, this time it was a full blown smile, with teeth. I'm telling you - it's a killer. "You're doing fine."
"Fine. Sure. Fine. What now?"
"Now - slowly easy the pressure on the pedal."
"Slowly . I can do that."
"Easy, Buffy. Just take it ."
I did, and the car jumped, then died.
". slow," he finished weakly. I heard him take a deep breath. "That's no problem. Just this time, before starting the ignition, step on the pedal first."
"Okay." I bit my lower lip, certain even my ears had to be red with embarrassment.
But like a miracle, this time when I eased the pressure, the car didn't jump. It started to roll.
"It worked," I breathed. And when it continued to roll, I shouted, "I did it."
"See - that was easy."
"Easy," I muttered. "Sure."
I heard him chuckle and had to grin as well. Hey, I was entitled to grin a little. After all I was driving a car - with a stick. Even though we were more crawling than moving along, it was still a victory.
"Okay, the next step-"
"There is a next step?" Was that panic in my voice? Now the flush crept down my neck.
"Step on the clutch again, then change into second gear. To do that you have to shift the stick back."
"Right," I nodded, biting my lower lip once again. Surprisingly it went smoothly. I changed gears with just a minor scratching noise, and when I finally changed into the fourth, you could barely feel it anymore. Wow. Maybe I was going to learn to drive after all.
*****
I was so concentrated on my driving and so proud of my success that it took a while until I noticed the deep rhythmic breaths coming from beside me. I glanced over and found my companion asleep, his eyes closed, his head leaning against the head-rest. He looked years younger, almost innocent even. I had to chuckle, innocent wasn't a word I would have chosen for him before.
Turning my eyes back to the road, I couldn't help but wonder what to think of everything that had happened today. Why had he been waiting for me in front of my house? Why had he asked me to drive with him, only to fall asleep after an hour? It was all very odd, and I couldn't quite wrap my mind around it.
But then, it wasn't really new, this feeling of questions unanswered where he was concerned. Ever since he'd first shown up at my school almost a year ago - it was the day of my seventeenth birthday - all I had were questions, questions he never answered.
The memory is still strong in my mind. I was walking down the stairs in front of my school and there he stood. Like today, he was leaning against his black mustang, feet crossed at his ankles - only the cigarette had been missing. And he hadn't looked at me then. Instead he'd been talking to a blond guy I had noticed only once until then. I knew the guy's name was Spike and that he wasn't actually in high school. But he was lingering around, and the rumors said you could get anything from him. Pills, drugs, even weapons, if you needed them.
Their conversations wasn't a friendly one, Spike looking agitated, almost spitting at the stranger, while his girlfriend - and believe me when I tell you that I could barely believe it was Harmony - was studying her red fingernails with a bored expression on her face. Harmony had been my nemesis for years, and we hated each other with a passion. She was a snotty rich girl, but Spike was an older guy, and he had a certain coolness factor that probably made up for his lack of background.
The stranger, on the other hand, looked completely cool and relaxed and nobody could miss the air of authority surrounding him. After a moment, Spike turned away from him, giving the stranger a hateful look, before he jumped into his car and drove away, burning rubber in the process. The stranger shook his head, and something like a fleeting grin crossed his features before he looked up and our eyes met.
And even though this might sound trite, but I had the feeling time stopped, and everything around me faded into the background. His eyes were intense and very dark, so dark I couldn't see the pupils, and they were watching me in a way I had never been watched before - I was sure of it. I was used to boys looking at me, checking me out, but this wasn't a boy. He was watching me with the eyes of a man, and I felt hot and cold all of a sudden. After a moment his mouth quirked into a half-smile before he turned away, climbed into his car and was gone.
I stood like a statue, my heart beating a mile a minute, and I needed moment before I realized someone was talking to me. "What?"
"I asked you if you're still in there."
A hand was waved in front of my face and I blinked. "Xander?"
Xander Harris, one of my two best friends, rolled his eyes, "No, I'm the eight legged monster from the black lagoon. Of course it's Xander. What is going on with you?"
"She was checking out the guy," Willow, my other best friend, answered, giving me a conspiratorial wink, I almost missed.
"What guy?" Xander's gaze darted around wildly, searching for possible competition. Not that Xander and I were anything but friends, it was more like an ongoing joke between us. He'd had a severe crush on me when I first started school, but over the years it had cooled down - at least I hoped it had.
"Who is he?" I asked, still feeling as if walking in a daze.
"You mean Angel?" Willow said, grinning broadly.
"Angel?"
"That's his name," my red headed friend explained. "Well, it's what he calls himself," she amended after a moment.
"Angel." It came out like a breath, but I didn't care. It fit. Somehow it really fit him, even though I couldn't believe a mother would name her son Angel. On the other hand my parents had named me Buffy.
"The tall guy who was talking to Spike?" Xander was looking at me with a frown. "Never saw him before."
"He's been there the whole week," Willow informed us. "That's how I know his name. Don't you think he's really good looking?"
"Oh, please!" Xander rolled his eyes again. "Sure, he's older, and manly, and he has all these cool leather clothes, but he could be your father."
I snorted, finally leaving my daze. "Hardly. He can't be more than 23 or 24."
"And his car is a classic." That came from Cordelia who had come up behind us, looking at Xander as if he was nothing but a bug. Flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder, she added, "He's just what the doctor prescribed." With that she breezed past us, her three hundred dollar shoes clicking on the hard surface.
Xander watched her leave and scratched his head. "Cordelia Chase, always a heart for the rich and the pretty."
Eyes wide with innocence, Willow stared at him, "I thought you just said Angel wasn't good looking."
And that's how it went that day. From then on, Angel came regularly, always hanging out in front of our school, but unlike Spike he never sold anything to the kids. He just seemed to be there. For weeks our eyes met and for weeks he was giving me those sexy half-smirks, he seemed to have developed into an art. It made me feel hot and cold and totally immune to other guys. And there had been some of them.
Not counting Pike who was pre-Angel, and my obsession with Billy Fordham - and we are not going to talk about that - Scott Hope was the first. He was nice and shy, and really sweet, but every time I compared him to Angel he came up short. So after two or three chaste kisses we decided we weren't made for each other.
The next was Parker, who tried his considerable charms on me in the cafeteria, but as I had just seen Angel standing near the window, I was *so* not paying attention. I think I really hurt his ego, when I didn't respond to any of his attempts to draw me into a conversation. Willow couldn't stop giggling after he left and weeks later she still started laughing when we ran across him somewhere, which was wigging Parker out in the worst way and he avoided meeting us all together.
Then came Riley, sweet, blond, blue-eyed, he was a college student I met one day at the movies, and the most persistent of all. Yet, nothing happened. We had coffee together now and then where he tried his best to catch my attention. A month later he gave up. I was just too preoccupied with a certain someone in front of my school - and I hadn't even talked to him yet! How crazy is that? If Angel knew about it, he'd probably run away screaming.
"Where are we?"
I almost jumped out of my seat, having been so lost in memories, at Angel's sleepy voice.
"Ah . about 50 Miles out of town - I think."
He blinked, and yawned, showing me two rows of nice white teeth, and a tongue I really wanted . I shifted in my seat, the sudden heat between my thighs not really comfortable.
"Are you hungry?" In response my stomach gave a low growl and he chuckled. "Why don't we stop at the next opportunity. I also need to use the bathroom."
"Okay," I said, not wondering for a minute what the hell we were doing, or where we were going. I was so content to be with him in one car, nothing else mattered. And yes, it's totally crazy, so I don't mind if you mention that.
"And the car is still in once piece," he murmured after a moment.
My eyes narrowed. "Very funny. I have you know that I can drive."
"Just not with a stick."
"Exactly."
"You have a driver's license?"
"Ah.."
"That's what I thought."
"But I can drive," I pouted. "You're still alive!"
He chuckled again, running fingers through his already disheveled hair, making it stand up on end. "Just barely. But I suppose after a proper amount of coffee I might survive."
"Are you going to tell me where we're going at some point?"
"Don't you like surprises?"
"What I'd like was for you not to answer all of my questions with another."
"But it's such fun."
And wasn't he the joker. "Yeah. Fun," I grumbled.
"Hey, brighten up a little. It's still early. After some food and coffee you'll be a little less grumpy.."
"I am *not* grumpy."
"Are too, but I like it."
"Tell me, is it just the sugar low or are there certain times when you revert into childhood."
For the first time since I've known him, he laughed. Not a chuckle, a deep belly laugh - and he looked so devastatingly beautiful, it almost hurt, and I wondered what a guy like Angel would want with a girl like me. Not even out of high school, barely eighteen, and there was the most gorgeous man I'd ever met, spending time with me. Maybe it was me with the sugar low, and I was getting delirious.
"You look lovely when you're angry, do you know that?"
I barely managed not to drive into the ditch. "Wha-what?" I asked, glancing over at him. But he wasn't looking at me, instead he was staring out of the window, his palms resting on his leather clad thighs, long, strong and capable, and very male.
God, what was I doing here? He was a man. I was an eighteen year old high school student. He was probably expecting to do something manly and .
"Stop."
I blinked. "What?"
"Stop whatever you're thinking," he ordered, looking amused again.
"O-okay." I liked my suddenly dry lips. "Why?"
"Because you were speeding and that can't be good."
"Oh!" My eyes flew to the speedometer, I eased off the gas with a shocked gasp, until the car went back to its normal speed. "Sorry," I muttered.
"It's okay. Buffy?"
"Yeah."
"If you want . uh . I'm a good listener."
"I'm just hungry," I lied. No way was I going to tell him what had gone through my head. And I could hardly ask him why he was spending time with me, why he had taken me on a drive. That was just too embarrassing.
He sighed, clearly not believing me. But he thankfully let it go. "Then let's get some food into you."
"Yeah, let's."
*****
I hated greasy food because it had the bad habit to add pounds where I didn't need them, but I ate anyway, as greasy food seemed to be all they had. We ordered burgers, fried and something to drink, then settled comfortably in our booths, waiting for our lunch to arrive. When I realized he was smiling slightly, I frowned.
"What? Do I have something on my face?"
He chuckled. "No. I just like watching you."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I mean, watching me? Please! "Really? Your life has to be pretty boring."
"Why do you think that?"
"I'm not very interesting," I told him. I wasn't trying to be coy, I really meant it. But, of course, I've lived with myself for eighteen years, so there wasn't a lot for me to discover. I was pretty familiar with myself.
"That's where you're wrong." He linked his fingers behind his head and scrutinized me, which made me uncomfortable. "Are you glad your mother is dating a new man?"
"What?" I felt as if he'd punched me in the gut. What on earth did he know about my mother? Why was he even paying attention to her?
"I asked-"
"I heard you. But what I want to know is what this is to you?"
He shrugged, "Nothing. I just thought it was something you had on your mind."
I looked at him, stunned. Was the guy a mind reader or what? He couldn't have heard me talking to mom in the car, not above the noise the car was making. "Have you been spying on me?"
It was his turn to frown, but after a moment it turned into a smile. "Now, why should I do that?"
"I don't know," I snapped, angry now. "But you seem to know an awful lot about my mother's life."
He shrugged again, "I'm interested in her daughter. Isn't it natural to know about her mother, too?"
"Not if the daughter suddenly has the feeling you've been-"
I was interrupted in mid-sentence by the arrival of the waitress who placed our drinks in front of us, then disappeared again.
"- stalking me," I then finished.
His left brow went up, "Stalking you?" Angel unlaced his fingers and picked up his drink. Taking a sip, he looked at me over the rim of his glass, "I admit I've been waiting for you today. But our other meetings were by chance. I just happened to be in front of your school."
"Oh, sure. And I suppose you just *happened* to be there when I went home?" I wasn't sure why I was getting so worked up over this. So he knew about Greg. Big deal. But somehow I felt . betrayed, not quite knowing why, but feeling that way nevertheless.
He gave me a smile of relief. "Exactly. It's not as if I need to stalk women," he then announced.
I rolled my eyes - I just couldn't help myself, "Big ego much?"
He laughed, making me tingly all over. Damn. "I'm just stating facts, Buffy. Women, girls, they tend to gravitate in my direction. It's been that way since I was twelve."
I had no problems understanding why. Besides, I had watched the girls in high school - and that included myself - swoon over him from day one. The only one who seemed immune to his charms was Willow, but she was still so helplessly in love with Xander, no other man could measure up.
"Don't get me wrong," he interrupted my thoughts. "I don't think I'm someone special. I was raised to believe that looks aren't something you should be proud of. But it's still a fact that I never had to look for women, they always came to me."
I knew he was telling the truth. First of all, I had the living proof right in front of me, and second . Well, second, the look in his eyes told me that he was completely serious.
"It still doesn't explain why you know so much about my mother's," and here I winced, "love life."
Our food arrived then, and for a moment we were distracted, but when the waitress left, I heard him sigh and looked up.
"I know your mother is dating Greg Henderson. In fact, I've known it for quite some time. I also know that you and your sister are not happy about it."
"You," I swallowed, my appetite completely lost, "know . about Greg?"
Taking a bite from his hamburger, he mumbled, "Yeah."
"And . how do you know him?" I demanded, turning my most lethal glare on him.
Instead of answering my question, he asked one of his own. "Do you know how old Greg is?"
"No," I snapped. "And I'm not interested."
"Greg is thirty-three years old, a few years younger than your mother." He paused, took another bite, chewed it and swallowed. "Have you ever looked at Greg, Buffy?"
"No," I gritted out, wishing I hadn't given him the key for his car back. But because I had, I was now stranded in the middle of nowhere with no opportunity to escape.
"Greg Henderson," he said slowly, "is my step-brother, Buffy."
When I was a kid, I always wondered how swallowing a stone might feel like. And now I knew. It was as if lead was sinking in my stomach, pulling it slowly towards the floor. "Wh-what?"
"He is my step-brother. And he loves your mother very much. I know that because I know him. And your mother loves him, Buffy. But first and foremost she is your and Dawn's mother, and she will put your wishes above her own." He paused again, watching me intently, before he continued, "I know you wished your parents would get back together, and if this was a fairy tale, they probably would. But it isn't a fairy-tale, and we all have to play the cards life deals us. So why don't you back off a little and enjoy that your mother has found a new guy to be happy with?"
I opened my mouth to tell him where he could shove his great knowledge about Greg Henderson, but no word came out. Not only because my mouth was so dry that I had the feeling my tongue was stuck in it, but also because the thoughts in my head were tumbling all over each other, and the blood was rushing in my ears like the Niagara Falls. But I knew one thing, I couldn't continue sitting here with him as if we were best buds. He had betrayed me and I needed to get away.
I jumped up and bolted from the restaurant, his voice calling my name, but I was already out of the door, and I had no intention to come back any time soon.
to be continued .
Hope you'll enjoy what I've done after such a long time. And yes, I've been reading through "Wild Days" the last couple of weeks and intend to continue it as soon as possible. Bear with me - okay. And thanks for being so patient with me.
FIC: The Driving Lesson
Author: Jill Disclaimer: nope, not mine, never will be; if I could I'd claim Gale though *g* Rating: R Pairing: B/A Category: Angst, Romance, Drama - all the good stuff Feedback: oh yes, please send it to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de Spoilers: none really, this is complete AU Dedication: to Ducks, Gem, Vatrixsta and Trammie. By reading through your fics the last weeks you made me see the beauty of B/A fiction again.
My most humblest thanks go to my beta-readers, Jade, Kay and Kristen. You rock girls!!!
I got the idea for this fic by - go figure - a Slash-story. It's called "Sleep While I Drive" by Jenn ( - the story is Clex (Smallville), just to warn you. If you are a fan of Clex - read it now. It's phenomenal.)
Chapter 1 (of 4)
"You're home."
That's all he said when I came back from school. Because of a heat wave the teacher let us go early, so I wasn't quite sure how he could have known I'd be there just past noon. Of course, we're talking about the guy who always seemed to know what I was doing long before I did. It's more than a little disconcerting.
He just stood there, legs crossed at his ankles, clad in black, black silk shirt, black leather pants, black boots, a small smirk lifting the right corner of his mouth. And he was watching me, in that special way of his that made me want to squirm.
Of course, I wasn't squirming. No way I would give him the advantage to see me squirm. It was bad enough that I felt my face flush and that the redness was spreading to my neck and ears. Damn.
"Uh - hi." And wasn't that vocal of me? "What are you doing here?"
He took a drag off his cigarette, a very slooooow drag, then let it drop and deliberately stepped on it, glancing at the tip of his foot while he made a slow squeezing motion with it. He didn't look up when he said, "I was waiting for you."
By that time my heart was fluttering and my stomach was flip-flopping. "Ah," was all I could manage.
Oh boy.
He finally looked up again and one of his dark brows drew up. "You look a little hot." And he was looking so damned cool himself, for a moment I wanted to slap him.
"Yeah, you know how it is. Heat wave and all," I babbled, close to slapping myself now. Could I sound more idiotic? More like the teenager I unfortunately still am? And here was this hunky guy making my knees weak and my heart stutter .
Oh boy.
"So," he said slowly, leaning back against the door of his black Mustang, "you're done with school?"
"For today, yeah." And soon forever. At least where high school was concerned. Of course, my parents expected me to go to college, as did my best friend. Months ago when the finals were just something far away on the horizon, she had started talking about what college we were going to attend. I wasn't really listening, I have to admit, but I had still listened enough to realize how serious the whole college-business was for her.
Not that I could really think about college right now, because strong thighs clad in leather pants were getting all the attention I could muster. Boy, did the guy look good in them.
I quickly blinked and did my best to veil my thoughts. "What about you?" What about you???? Did I actually ask that question? I wished the earth would open up and swallow me whole that very instant. I wasn't quite sure what the guy did, but just from looking at him I knew that he had to be out of school for some years.
He chuckled slightly, "Wanna go for a ride?"
Doing my best not to let my surprise show, I tilted my head, "Now?" Okay, something was going on here. He never asked me on a ride before. Sure, he showed up now and then, looking at me in that strange way that made me go all gooey inside, made me shiver with his voice like hot chocolate fudge, but then disappeared without ever revealing his identity.
Fact was, I didn't even know his real name.
He didn't reply to my question about going now. Instead he turned around, slipped into his car, propping one elbow on the side door and looked at me expectantly.
It's really embarrassing that I have to admit I was inside of the car in less than a second, the cool breeze of the air-conditioning feeling incredible on my dampened skin, the soft surface of the leather feeling like a lover's touch. Not that I knew how that felt like, mind. And how embarrassing is that admission for an eighteen year old girl these days?
I sighed before I could stop myself, then cleared my throat. "What's going on?"
He shrugged and started the ignition, then pulled out of the driveway of our house and onto the street. We were about four blocks away from my house, when he spoke again. "You live with your Mom?"
That surprised me. How did he know that? Why would he be interested? Okay, so I'm not that dense. The guy was obviously interested, but knowing about my Mom? "Uh . yeah."
"What about your dad?"
I shrugged, trying to keep calm. "He's in New York. Living with his current girlfriend." I still hadn't quite gotten over the fact that my parents were divorced, even though it's been four years since they dropped their little bombshell. But even more difficult to accept was the fact that both of them were moving on nicely. Dad with a number of girlfriends I had lost count of, and my mother . she'd been dating this guy on and off for the past two years, but the last three months it seemed to become more serious. He had even spent the night.
And don't ask how much that one grossed me out! It's hard enough to think of your parents doing . it. But your mom with a man who's not your dad? Believe me, it multiplies the gross-factor to the unlimited. And she was smiling all the time, radiating all this good mood around herself . making me sick!
"That's harsh."
Oh, right. He was still here. Or rather I was still with him. Thinking about my parents is an easy distraction. "Oh, well," I downplayed, "you learn to live with it. What about yours?"
"Mine?"
"Parents. Your parents. Weren't we talking about them."
"Oh." He flushed a little, the first time I had seen his calm demeanor slip, and it made me suck in a sharp breath. He had been in most of --- okay, in all --- of my dreams lately, the aloof hero, cool, strong, this human side made him a lot more . real. It was suddenly a lot easier to talk to him.
"Yeah. So, what about them?"
He shrugged. How well I knew that gesture. "My father and I . stopped talking to each other a while ago."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. After that last shouting match it's probably better for everyone involved. As for my mother . she's never tried to go against my father's wishes in her life."
"Not even for her son?" I wanted to bite my lips the moment the words were out.
But surprisingly he didn't seem to mind. "No. Not even for me." With that the subject was obviously closed.
I frowned at his profile for a moment - he has a really lovely profile by the way - then turned back to look out the front window only to see that we were close to the city limits already. "Where are we going?"
"Where do you want us to go?"
Huh? "I thought you were taking me somewhere." Yes, I sounded a little dumbfounded, but . wouldn't you?
"I am. I'm just not sure where."
Uh-huh. "So you . don't have, like, a plan?"
"Nu-huh."
"That's . ah . interesting."
A grin flashed over his face making it . Geez, maybe I was developing a tonsillitis or something, because my throat was incredibly tight all of a sudden. Was it even allowed for a guy to look that good?
"Interesting, yeah," he agreed.
"Oh . I . ah . really need to call my mom. She doesn't even know where I am."
"Go ahead." He pulled a tiny cell phone from his pocket and handed it to me, our finger tips brushing in the process. The touch sent shivers right down my spine.
Fumbling with the buttons and trying to hide my reaction to us touching at the same time, I dialed the number of my mother's gallery and waited. She opened it when we moved here, right after my parents finalized their divorce, and it turned out to be a big success.
"Summers?"
"Hey mom," I chirped, trying to sound natural and relaxed while being anything but. "It's me."
"Buffy. Is something wrong?"
I frowned. Why did she always expect something was wrong when I called. "No. Everything's fine. I just wanted to tell you that I'll be . out for a while."
"What about school?"
She sounded worried. And yes, there had been a time when she had reason to. Right after I found out my parents were going to get a divorce, I got a little crazy and . did some stupid things. In the end they got me expelled from my old school. But I'm past that, and she sure as hell should know that. "School is over. They let us go early because of the heat wave."
"Oh. I see. But honey . what about Dawnie?"
"What about her?" I didn't try to hide my exasperation this time. "She's not a kid anymore. She's almost fifteen. She'll be glad to be on her own for a while."
"Well . you're probably right," she agreed hesitantly. "But give her a call so she won't worry."
I rolled my eyes. Mothers can be so dense sometimes. My little sister never worries about me. "I will," I promised nevertheless.
"Good. Have fun, honey. I love you. Oh . and Buffy . I'll not be home until late. Greg and I are going out for dinner. He says there's something important he needs to talk about. Oh, Buffy . this could be what we've been waiting for!
WE? I almost snapped the word at her, but stopped myself the very last moment. Greg could go to hell as far as I was concerned. Dawn hated him too. At least over that we agreed. Greg was an asshole, but if I understood my mother correctly, he was going to pop the question tonight.
Suddenly college looked more and more tempting.
*****
By the time I finished my call with Dawn we had already left the city limits. I was still seething from my mother's revelation about Greg's intentions and was starting out of the window with what had to be a stony expression. Landscape was flying by but I wasn't paying attention, until the car slowed down all of a sudden, then stopped and the ignition was turned off. A moment later something was dangling in front of my face.
I blinked twice before I managed to focus on the object. It was a key. Or more precisely - the car key.
"Huh?" I managed - but barely.
"It's your turn."
I blinked again. "My turn?"
"You can drive, right?"
"Ah . sure," I replied quickly, grabbing the key before he could pull it away. No way I was going to admit that I didn't have a driver's license yet. It was a constant discussion between Mom and me. She thought I wasn't ready for it, not responsible enough - I thought she was simply being stubborn and ridiculous. We hadn't been able to solve the dilemma so far.
He was climbing out of the car and I scooped over behind the wheel, struggling with the seat to move it forward (waaaaay forward), so I could reach the gas and break and . oh . the car had a stick. Ooops. I was bad enough with an automatic, but a stick .
I cleared my throat when he climbed back in. "Ah . it's got a stick."
"Sure. It's a classic."
Obviously the explanation was sufficient for him. And not wanting to embarrass myself again, I just nodded. "Oh . of course. A classic," I added weakly.
"Buffy." It was the first time he had said my name and I shivered involuntarily. He had that breathless way of using it, almost like a caress, as if the air slipping through his lips was touching my skin, breezing over it, letting goose bumps rise everywhere it reached.
"Yeah." It wasn't more than a breath.
"You can drive - right?"
"Ah ." What to do, what to do? I decided it was time to tell the truth. "I didn't exactly drive a stick before." Okay, so half-truth.
"There's really nothing to it," he replied, and the smile came back on his lips, slipping through my skin, into my gut.
Oh boy.
"Start the ignition."
I did, and the car purred to life, making me wonder how much time he spent caring for the car. It's a classic, he'd said. So it was probably old - just well kept.
"Okay." His voice was low, soothing, and velvety smooth. "Now . press down on the clutch. It's the one on the left.
"Left - right," I gritted out between clenched teeth, stepping on the pedal.
"Good." There was that smile again. And I was supposed to keep my attention on the car. How cruel is that? "Now - see this?" He pointed at the stick in the middle between us. "It's not a problem to find the right gear. It's all written here. Reverse, first, second, third, fourth. Put in first."
My tongue slipping out between slightly opened lips, I shoved the stick forward. "Okay, got it - I think."
"Buffy."
I took a deep breath and turned my head. "Yeah."
This time it wasn't just a lifting of his lips, this time it was a full blown smile, with teeth. I'm telling you - it's a killer. "You're doing fine."
"Fine. Sure. Fine. What now?"
"Now - slowly easy the pressure on the pedal."
"Slowly . I can do that."
"Easy, Buffy. Just take it ."
I did, and the car jumped, then died.
". slow," he finished weakly. I heard him take a deep breath. "That's no problem. Just this time, before starting the ignition, step on the pedal first."
"Okay." I bit my lower lip, certain even my ears had to be red with embarrassment.
But like a miracle, this time when I eased the pressure, the car didn't jump. It started to roll.
"It worked," I breathed. And when it continued to roll, I shouted, "I did it."
"See - that was easy."
"Easy," I muttered. "Sure."
I heard him chuckle and had to grin as well. Hey, I was entitled to grin a little. After all I was driving a car - with a stick. Even though we were more crawling than moving along, it was still a victory.
"Okay, the next step-"
"There is a next step?" Was that panic in my voice? Now the flush crept down my neck.
"Step on the clutch again, then change into second gear. To do that you have to shift the stick back."
"Right," I nodded, biting my lower lip once again. Surprisingly it went smoothly. I changed gears with just a minor scratching noise, and when I finally changed into the fourth, you could barely feel it anymore. Wow. Maybe I was going to learn to drive after all.
*****
I was so concentrated on my driving and so proud of my success that it took a while until I noticed the deep rhythmic breaths coming from beside me. I glanced over and found my companion asleep, his eyes closed, his head leaning against the head-rest. He looked years younger, almost innocent even. I had to chuckle, innocent wasn't a word I would have chosen for him before.
Turning my eyes back to the road, I couldn't help but wonder what to think of everything that had happened today. Why had he been waiting for me in front of my house? Why had he asked me to drive with him, only to fall asleep after an hour? It was all very odd, and I couldn't quite wrap my mind around it.
But then, it wasn't really new, this feeling of questions unanswered where he was concerned. Ever since he'd first shown up at my school almost a year ago - it was the day of my seventeenth birthday - all I had were questions, questions he never answered.
The memory is still strong in my mind. I was walking down the stairs in front of my school and there he stood. Like today, he was leaning against his black mustang, feet crossed at his ankles - only the cigarette had been missing. And he hadn't looked at me then. Instead he'd been talking to a blond guy I had noticed only once until then. I knew the guy's name was Spike and that he wasn't actually in high school. But he was lingering around, and the rumors said you could get anything from him. Pills, drugs, even weapons, if you needed them.
Their conversations wasn't a friendly one, Spike looking agitated, almost spitting at the stranger, while his girlfriend - and believe me when I tell you that I could barely believe it was Harmony - was studying her red fingernails with a bored expression on her face. Harmony had been my nemesis for years, and we hated each other with a passion. She was a snotty rich girl, but Spike was an older guy, and he had a certain coolness factor that probably made up for his lack of background.
The stranger, on the other hand, looked completely cool and relaxed and nobody could miss the air of authority surrounding him. After a moment, Spike turned away from him, giving the stranger a hateful look, before he jumped into his car and drove away, burning rubber in the process. The stranger shook his head, and something like a fleeting grin crossed his features before he looked up and our eyes met.
And even though this might sound trite, but I had the feeling time stopped, and everything around me faded into the background. His eyes were intense and very dark, so dark I couldn't see the pupils, and they were watching me in a way I had never been watched before - I was sure of it. I was used to boys looking at me, checking me out, but this wasn't a boy. He was watching me with the eyes of a man, and I felt hot and cold all of a sudden. After a moment his mouth quirked into a half-smile before he turned away, climbed into his car and was gone.
I stood like a statue, my heart beating a mile a minute, and I needed moment before I realized someone was talking to me. "What?"
"I asked you if you're still in there."
A hand was waved in front of my face and I blinked. "Xander?"
Xander Harris, one of my two best friends, rolled his eyes, "No, I'm the eight legged monster from the black lagoon. Of course it's Xander. What is going on with you?"
"She was checking out the guy," Willow, my other best friend, answered, giving me a conspiratorial wink, I almost missed.
"What guy?" Xander's gaze darted around wildly, searching for possible competition. Not that Xander and I were anything but friends, it was more like an ongoing joke between us. He'd had a severe crush on me when I first started school, but over the years it had cooled down - at least I hoped it had.
"Who is he?" I asked, still feeling as if walking in a daze.
"You mean Angel?" Willow said, grinning broadly.
"Angel?"
"That's his name," my red headed friend explained. "Well, it's what he calls himself," she amended after a moment.
"Angel." It came out like a breath, but I didn't care. It fit. Somehow it really fit him, even though I couldn't believe a mother would name her son Angel. On the other hand my parents had named me Buffy.
"The tall guy who was talking to Spike?" Xander was looking at me with a frown. "Never saw him before."
"He's been there the whole week," Willow informed us. "That's how I know his name. Don't you think he's really good looking?"
"Oh, please!" Xander rolled his eyes again. "Sure, he's older, and manly, and he has all these cool leather clothes, but he could be your father."
I snorted, finally leaving my daze. "Hardly. He can't be more than 23 or 24."
"And his car is a classic." That came from Cordelia who had come up behind us, looking at Xander as if he was nothing but a bug. Flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder, she added, "He's just what the doctor prescribed." With that she breezed past us, her three hundred dollar shoes clicking on the hard surface.
Xander watched her leave and scratched his head. "Cordelia Chase, always a heart for the rich and the pretty."
Eyes wide with innocence, Willow stared at him, "I thought you just said Angel wasn't good looking."
And that's how it went that day. From then on, Angel came regularly, always hanging out in front of our school, but unlike Spike he never sold anything to the kids. He just seemed to be there. For weeks our eyes met and for weeks he was giving me those sexy half-smirks, he seemed to have developed into an art. It made me feel hot and cold and totally immune to other guys. And there had been some of them.
Not counting Pike who was pre-Angel, and my obsession with Billy Fordham - and we are not going to talk about that - Scott Hope was the first. He was nice and shy, and really sweet, but every time I compared him to Angel he came up short. So after two or three chaste kisses we decided we weren't made for each other.
The next was Parker, who tried his considerable charms on me in the cafeteria, but as I had just seen Angel standing near the window, I was *so* not paying attention. I think I really hurt his ego, when I didn't respond to any of his attempts to draw me into a conversation. Willow couldn't stop giggling after he left and weeks later she still started laughing when we ran across him somewhere, which was wigging Parker out in the worst way and he avoided meeting us all together.
Then came Riley, sweet, blond, blue-eyed, he was a college student I met one day at the movies, and the most persistent of all. Yet, nothing happened. We had coffee together now and then where he tried his best to catch my attention. A month later he gave up. I was just too preoccupied with a certain someone in front of my school - and I hadn't even talked to him yet! How crazy is that? If Angel knew about it, he'd probably run away screaming.
"Where are we?"
I almost jumped out of my seat, having been so lost in memories, at Angel's sleepy voice.
"Ah . about 50 Miles out of town - I think."
He blinked, and yawned, showing me two rows of nice white teeth, and a tongue I really wanted . I shifted in my seat, the sudden heat between my thighs not really comfortable.
"Are you hungry?" In response my stomach gave a low growl and he chuckled. "Why don't we stop at the next opportunity. I also need to use the bathroom."
"Okay," I said, not wondering for a minute what the hell we were doing, or where we were going. I was so content to be with him in one car, nothing else mattered. And yes, it's totally crazy, so I don't mind if you mention that.
"And the car is still in once piece," he murmured after a moment.
My eyes narrowed. "Very funny. I have you know that I can drive."
"Just not with a stick."
"Exactly."
"You have a driver's license?"
"Ah.."
"That's what I thought."
"But I can drive," I pouted. "You're still alive!"
He chuckled again, running fingers through his already disheveled hair, making it stand up on end. "Just barely. But I suppose after a proper amount of coffee I might survive."
"Are you going to tell me where we're going at some point?"
"Don't you like surprises?"
"What I'd like was for you not to answer all of my questions with another."
"But it's such fun."
And wasn't he the joker. "Yeah. Fun," I grumbled.
"Hey, brighten up a little. It's still early. After some food and coffee you'll be a little less grumpy.."
"I am *not* grumpy."
"Are too, but I like it."
"Tell me, is it just the sugar low or are there certain times when you revert into childhood."
For the first time since I've known him, he laughed. Not a chuckle, a deep belly laugh - and he looked so devastatingly beautiful, it almost hurt, and I wondered what a guy like Angel would want with a girl like me. Not even out of high school, barely eighteen, and there was the most gorgeous man I'd ever met, spending time with me. Maybe it was me with the sugar low, and I was getting delirious.
"You look lovely when you're angry, do you know that?"
I barely managed not to drive into the ditch. "Wha-what?" I asked, glancing over at him. But he wasn't looking at me, instead he was staring out of the window, his palms resting on his leather clad thighs, long, strong and capable, and very male.
God, what was I doing here? He was a man. I was an eighteen year old high school student. He was probably expecting to do something manly and .
"Stop."
I blinked. "What?"
"Stop whatever you're thinking," he ordered, looking amused again.
"O-okay." I liked my suddenly dry lips. "Why?"
"Because you were speeding and that can't be good."
"Oh!" My eyes flew to the speedometer, I eased off the gas with a shocked gasp, until the car went back to its normal speed. "Sorry," I muttered.
"It's okay. Buffy?"
"Yeah."
"If you want . uh . I'm a good listener."
"I'm just hungry," I lied. No way was I going to tell him what had gone through my head. And I could hardly ask him why he was spending time with me, why he had taken me on a drive. That was just too embarrassing.
He sighed, clearly not believing me. But he thankfully let it go. "Then let's get some food into you."
"Yeah, let's."
*****
I hated greasy food because it had the bad habit to add pounds where I didn't need them, but I ate anyway, as greasy food seemed to be all they had. We ordered burgers, fried and something to drink, then settled comfortably in our booths, waiting for our lunch to arrive. When I realized he was smiling slightly, I frowned.
"What? Do I have something on my face?"
He chuckled. "No. I just like watching you."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I mean, watching me? Please! "Really? Your life has to be pretty boring."
"Why do you think that?"
"I'm not very interesting," I told him. I wasn't trying to be coy, I really meant it. But, of course, I've lived with myself for eighteen years, so there wasn't a lot for me to discover. I was pretty familiar with myself.
"That's where you're wrong." He linked his fingers behind his head and scrutinized me, which made me uncomfortable. "Are you glad your mother is dating a new man?"
"What?" I felt as if he'd punched me in the gut. What on earth did he know about my mother? Why was he even paying attention to her?
"I asked-"
"I heard you. But what I want to know is what this is to you?"
He shrugged, "Nothing. I just thought it was something you had on your mind."
I looked at him, stunned. Was the guy a mind reader or what? He couldn't have heard me talking to mom in the car, not above the noise the car was making. "Have you been spying on me?"
It was his turn to frown, but after a moment it turned into a smile. "Now, why should I do that?"
"I don't know," I snapped, angry now. "But you seem to know an awful lot about my mother's life."
He shrugged again, "I'm interested in her daughter. Isn't it natural to know about her mother, too?"
"Not if the daughter suddenly has the feeling you've been-"
I was interrupted in mid-sentence by the arrival of the waitress who placed our drinks in front of us, then disappeared again.
"- stalking me," I then finished.
His left brow went up, "Stalking you?" Angel unlaced his fingers and picked up his drink. Taking a sip, he looked at me over the rim of his glass, "I admit I've been waiting for you today. But our other meetings were by chance. I just happened to be in front of your school."
"Oh, sure. And I suppose you just *happened* to be there when I went home?" I wasn't sure why I was getting so worked up over this. So he knew about Greg. Big deal. But somehow I felt . betrayed, not quite knowing why, but feeling that way nevertheless.
He gave me a smile of relief. "Exactly. It's not as if I need to stalk women," he then announced.
I rolled my eyes - I just couldn't help myself, "Big ego much?"
He laughed, making me tingly all over. Damn. "I'm just stating facts, Buffy. Women, girls, they tend to gravitate in my direction. It's been that way since I was twelve."
I had no problems understanding why. Besides, I had watched the girls in high school - and that included myself - swoon over him from day one. The only one who seemed immune to his charms was Willow, but she was still so helplessly in love with Xander, no other man could measure up.
"Don't get me wrong," he interrupted my thoughts. "I don't think I'm someone special. I was raised to believe that looks aren't something you should be proud of. But it's still a fact that I never had to look for women, they always came to me."
I knew he was telling the truth. First of all, I had the living proof right in front of me, and second . Well, second, the look in his eyes told me that he was completely serious.
"It still doesn't explain why you know so much about my mother's," and here I winced, "love life."
Our food arrived then, and for a moment we were distracted, but when the waitress left, I heard him sigh and looked up.
"I know your mother is dating Greg Henderson. In fact, I've known it for quite some time. I also know that you and your sister are not happy about it."
"You," I swallowed, my appetite completely lost, "know . about Greg?"
Taking a bite from his hamburger, he mumbled, "Yeah."
"And . how do you know him?" I demanded, turning my most lethal glare on him.
Instead of answering my question, he asked one of his own. "Do you know how old Greg is?"
"No," I snapped. "And I'm not interested."
"Greg is thirty-three years old, a few years younger than your mother." He paused, took another bite, chewed it and swallowed. "Have you ever looked at Greg, Buffy?"
"No," I gritted out, wishing I hadn't given him the key for his car back. But because I had, I was now stranded in the middle of nowhere with no opportunity to escape.
"Greg Henderson," he said slowly, "is my step-brother, Buffy."
When I was a kid, I always wondered how swallowing a stone might feel like. And now I knew. It was as if lead was sinking in my stomach, pulling it slowly towards the floor. "Wh-what?"
"He is my step-brother. And he loves your mother very much. I know that because I know him. And your mother loves him, Buffy. But first and foremost she is your and Dawn's mother, and she will put your wishes above her own." He paused again, watching me intently, before he continued, "I know you wished your parents would get back together, and if this was a fairy tale, they probably would. But it isn't a fairy-tale, and we all have to play the cards life deals us. So why don't you back off a little and enjoy that your mother has found a new guy to be happy with?"
I opened my mouth to tell him where he could shove his great knowledge about Greg Henderson, but no word came out. Not only because my mouth was so dry that I had the feeling my tongue was stuck in it, but also because the thoughts in my head were tumbling all over each other, and the blood was rushing in my ears like the Niagara Falls. But I knew one thing, I couldn't continue sitting here with him as if we were best buds. He had betrayed me and I needed to get away.
I jumped up and bolted from the restaurant, his voice calling my name, but I was already out of the door, and I had no intention to come back any time soon.
to be continued .
