Cassie is standing with Reid Willoughby, Alicia D., and a senior, Boyd Hotchkiss. He's bad news. He makes a game of going from one girl to another. He especially likes the younger ones. I don't like him. For one thing, he ruins it for guys like me. He's one of the rich kids, drives a nice truck, lies like a rug, and basically has no redeeming qualities. So why do girls fall all over him? He's rich, drives a nice truck and lies.

As I said, I don't like him. And I, more specifically, don't like the amount of attention he is giving Cassie right now.

"Hey guys," I say, casually moving to get in between Cassie and him.

"Hey, Sticks, you're skinny, but not that skinny," Boyd says, elbowing me out of the way. He puts his hand on the middle of her back then lets it slide down to the small of her back.

"So, Rory, you had an impressive 10 seconds last night," Reid says, raising his hand to high five me.

"Thanks, but it was thirty seven seconds, asshole."

Reid laughs loudly, like it was a killer joke I had just told him.

"Why'd they put you in for such a little bit of time," Cassie asks.

"To give me experience," I say.

Boyd nods, "That and we were up by sixteen points. There was no way he could screw up and lose the game."

"Thank you, Boyd."

"Rory, you wouldn't screw up. You're real good at basketball," Cassie says.

I smile despite my discomfort at Boyd's hand resting just above her butt. Why hasn't she shaken it off? Did she really forget it's there? Maybe she has, but I haven't.

"So, Cassie, can I talk to you for a second?"

For some reason she looks at Boyd, like she's waiting for permission. When he makes no move to stop her, she follows me over to the water fountain a few feet away.

"Remember how you wanted to see a movie the other night? Well, I was thinking we could go catch a movie this weekend."

"I'd have to let you know later. Sometimes my parents make plans and don't bother to tell me about them until the last minute. I could call you when I find out."

"Like when would that be?"

She glances over to where Boyd and Alicia are laughing. "I'm not sure, but I'll call you as soon as possible."

"Sure."

She starts to edge back to Boyd, Reid and Alicia. All I want is a few minutes alone with her. But before I can think of anything riveting to say and hold her attention she looks at me and smiles sadly. "It's a real shame you don't have your license. It's so awkward when parents drive," she says quietly just before she returns to the others.

She looks over at Boyd and waves her fingers. Damn it. She's flirting with him.

I do a brain scramble. "I never said I couldn't drive. I just don't have my license officially. I drive all the time. My dad lets me take his truck out all the time." I stop, willing the lies to stop rolling so easily off my tongue and out of my mouth. The reality is he has let me back the truck up and drive to the end of the driveway. However, he did say I drove like a real pro.

But whatever, it gets her attention.

"So, how does Saturday night sound now?"

She smiles at me, the same flirtatious smile she had just bestowed on Boyd a couple of minutes before.

"Maybe, I'll tell my parents I've already made plans," she says softly.

As I walk away, smiling at my own good fortune and patting myself on the back for quick thinking, something dawns on me. I have just made a conscious decision to steal my dad's truck.

But instead of coming to my senses, I start to plan my crime.



My dad is out on the porch when I get home. He's whittling, only this time it's not a bird. I can't tell what it is.

"Got something for you today at the store."

"What store?" I say.

"Where I work."

This ought to be thrilling. It could either be a screw driver or a two by four. Whoopee.

"It's on the table in the kitchen."

I go inside, sloughing off my book bag and my jacket in one quick motion. The only thing I see is a can of paint. White paint, to be exact.

"How'd you know, Dad. I've been hoping for a can of paint for so long." I call out to him.

"Hold on, smart ass. You said you wanted to paint the Miss Lenore. Well, I got you paint."

I wrinkle my nose. "I also said I wanted a cell phone, didn't happen to pick up one of those, did you?" I mutter.

"What was that?"

"I said thanks. Thanks a lot."

He comes inside and sits on the arm of the couch, propping one foot on the cushion. "So what has you in such a sour mood?"

"I'm tired."

"Go lay down. I'll wake you when dinner is ready."

I take him up on the offer and head down the hall towards my room. "Really, thanks for the paint," I call out tiredly.

His laughter follows me down the hall.

My dad is a pretty good guy. Not perfect but then who is? He's rough around the edges but I'm used to it. People either like him or fear him. There really doesn't seem to be any in between. Why then, am I thinking of ways to get rid of him Saturday night?

For a chance to be with Cassie. If any girl is worth something of this magnitude, it is her.