Bobby climbs into the back of Ryan’s car and I stop short of following him because there is no real back seat. It’s one of those sporty cars that rides low to the ground and isn’t really built for passengers. A dozen excuses flit through my mind, reasons why I can’t get into the car—because I don’t fit tops the list. But before I can protest, Amber gives me a shove from behind and I find myself sprawled across Bobby’s lap, his hands suddenly all over me. “Sorry,” I mumble as I try to sit up, but his arm drapes over my shoulders to keep me at his side. Amber flops into the front seat, crushing my knees. To no one in particular, I say, “I feel squished.”
In my ear, Bobby laughs. I look at him but he’s so close, we almost kiss, so I turn away. Each breath of his tickles down the collar of my
