Page 16 of Chasing Stardust

“Same thing.”

With a dry laugh, she tucked a lock of my dark-blond hair behind my ear. “Not really.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m gonna be just like you, remember?”

“As long as you don’t end up like your grandmother,” Mom muttered, her smile faltering.

“Never gonna happen.” With a laugh and a wave, I turned and bolted toward the rest of the squad as the marching band played the school fight song and the crowd roared.

A horn blares behind me, startling me back to the present. I dry the tears collecting at the corner of my mouth with my shoulder. Mom may not be here, but something tells me she’d say it was time to suck it up and get this over with.

I hit the automatic redial and put the call on speaker.

“Hey, babe,” Damian purrs into the phone, using his smooth John Legend voice. “You just now rolling outta bed?”

A twinge of guilt pierces my chest. “Actually . . .”

Before I can get the rest of the sentence out, a minivan full of kids cuts me off, and I swear under my breath.

“What’s wrong?” Damian asks. “You sound stressed.”

Understatement. “I’m, uh, on the interstate heading toward Ohio.”

“Ohio?”

A loud noise clatters through the line, making me jump.

“Hold up, I thought you said you couldn’t go because your sister fell off the roof?”

“No.” I choose my words carefully, making sure he comprehends what I’m saying this time. “What I said was my sister fell off the roof so she couldn’t go.”

“Ah, okay.” He snickers under his breath. “Stuck with your crazy grandma all week?”

“Uh . . . not exactly.” Come on, Zoey, grow a pair and spit it out. “My grandma stayed home to help Jeanie, and—”

“Who’s driving you to Cleveland?” Damian’s voice turns icy.

My stomach clenches, and I clear my throat. “Me?”

“Nice one.” He laughs. “For real, who’s driving?”

“I’m not kidding.” It takes every drop of willpower to tamp down the moral outrage. “I decided to go on my own.”

“What the hell, Zoey?” Damian shouts. “You can barely drive!”

“That’s not true!” As if making his point for him, I slide in front of a Prius, barely missing their bumper. “I can drive.”

Damian snorts. “My eighty-three-year-old great-grandpa can drive. He also drove his car straight into the Tastee Freez last August. Thought he was pulling into the drive-through window. Unfortunately for him, they don’t have a drive-through window.”

“I’m not your grandpa, and I’m not gonna drive into a Dairy Queen.”

“Tastee Freez.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

“Listen, Zo.” He switches to his I-have-two-years-of-college-under-my-belt-so-I-know-best voice. “It’s early. You couldn’t have made it to the state line yet, so it’s not too late to turn around.”

“No. You listen.” Tears of frustration burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. He’s made me doubt myself for the last time. “I’m not turning back. If that’s not okay with you, then break up with me. Otherwise, get over it.”