“Are you still leaving tonight?” Courtney asks while we lounge on the couch, the television droning on in the background.
“I don’t know.” I sigh. “I don’t feel like driving now.”
Her eyes light up. “Really?”
“Yeah,” I say, not wanting to admit my fear of driving down the highway, alone, in the dark. The only reason why I drove here on Friday night was because my other emotions overshadowed the fear as I bulleted down I-4.
“Well, what do you feel like doing?”
“Something fun.”
“How ’bout dancing?” She raises an eyebrow. “We could go to that party—the one that girl Vicki was talking about.”
“Yeah, but…” I fall back against the couch. “I don’t want to run into Ryan.”