"Did you think I wouldn't?" I asked, trying to sound casual while my brain performed Olympic-level gymnastics.
"Well, considering you're apparently internet famous for assaulting a vice principal today, I thought you might have other priorities." Her tone wasn't judgmental. It was like she was amused by the idea that I could survive the world without a seatbelt.
"That's... complicated," I muttered, sliding into the chair across from her.
Close enough to smell her now. Subtle perfume. Expensive. Vanilla, but with a hint of "maybe I'll make a terrible decision tonight." Gold flecks in her brown eyes caught the light and mocked me gently. And her lipstick—slightly smudged from chewing her bottom lip while studying—made me think I'd get distracted if I stared too hard.
