Richard slowed the car to a stop, gravel crunching under the tires as we rolled up by the curb. A puff of smoke left my lips, curling against the glass before the breeze sucked it out through the crack of the passenger window. I flicked the ash, watching it scatter, then dragged my hand down my face.
"Fingers crossed, man." Richard muttered, half a sigh, half a prayer.
"Yeah." I nodded. "If you make up with her… no cheating next time, okay?"
"Fuck no," he shot back instantly, shaking his head. "Never."
"Good."
We bumped fists, quick and solid, and then he opened the door and stepped out. The slam echoed against the quiet street. I leaned back in the seat, watching him cross the little strip of cracked sidewalk. Guess this was it—the big moment. Would Mendy forgive him for being a dickhead? Would this whole stupid "quest" actually count as completed? Honestly, I half-expected Kayla to backpedal, twist her words, and screw me over, but she hadn't. Props to her.
