No Second Chances by Marissa Farrar

much as he was to me about how much he drank.
    Above my head, the sky rumbled ominously.
    I glanced up to realize I hadn’t even noticed the thick grey storm clouds which had rolled in while I’d been so desperately trying to find my only parent. I’d been stupid, really, thinking I could find a man in a car, when I was just a girl on foot. I had no idea where he was, but at least I hadn’t noticed police car sirens or seen a multi-car pileup anywhere.
    A fat, warm droplet smacked me on the forehead, then another, and another. In my rush, I hadn’t even thought to bring a jacket. The sky opened up in a deluge, soaking me to the skin within seconds. My t-shirt clung to my skin and my skirt slapped around my thighs as I walked.
    “You have got to be kidding me!” I cried up at the sky, my face upturned.
    Did everyone just want to dump on me? When was I going to catch a god-damned break?
    A couple of vehicles passed me. The light was fading now, headlights shining in the gloom. I suddenly became aware I was a young woman, out walking alone when it was almost dark. I was also soaked and my clothes stuck embarrassingly to my skin. I used my thumb and forefinger to pinch my t-shirt away from my chest. I literally looked like a contestant in a walking wet-t-shirt competition.
    A truck pulled up alongside me and I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, my body tensed, willing the person to go away. The last thing I needed right now was to be cat-called and hassled by a car full of jocks who thought they were being funny.
    “Gabi?”
    A male voice shouted at me from out of the driver’s open window.
    My name, someone who knew me.
    I glanced cautiously to one side, a combination of rain and tears dripping from my eyelashes, so I had to blink to clear my vision. I didn’t recognize the truck, and I picked up my pace, close to breaking into a run. Could my day get any worse?
    “Gabi, hey, it’s Cole. Hang on a minute!”
    I drew to a halt. Cole?
    Turning to the truck, I pushed my sodden hair out of my face and squinted at the vehicle. He leaned across the passenger seat and pushed open the door. “Get in, will you? It’s pouring.”
    I glanced up at the sky as though I hadn’t noticed, blinking as fresh raindrops hit my eyes. “I’ll get the seat all wet,” I said, stupidly.
    “It’ll dry. Just get in.”
    I didn’t have much option, did I? So far this evening, all of my choices were wrong anyway, so I might as well make another stupid one. Cole Devonport wasn’t about to abduct me and have his wicked way with me—not looking like this, anyway. Drowned rodents came to mind.
    I climbed into the truck and slammed the door shut behind me. I dripped onto the floor, water running into my face. He reached behind the passenger seat and pulled out a hooded sweatshirt.
    “Here,” he said, handing it to me.
    I looked at him dumbly and he gave it another gentle push into my hands. “You can dry yourself with it.”
    “Oh, right, thanks.”
    I took his sweatshirt and used it to dry the rain from my face and hair. The material smelled of him, Lynx deodorant, and musky boy smell. It was a good smell—comforting—and I found myself pressing the sweater against my face for longer than was probably suitable. I didn’t want him to notice I’d been crying. When people thought something was wrong they asked questions, and right now I didn’t have any answers.
    When I removed his sweatshirt from my eyes, I found him staring at me.
    “What?” I said.
    “Are you going to tell me why you’re wandering around in the rain at almost ten at night?”
    Crap. Was it really that late? I’d completely lost track of time.
    I shrugged. “I was taking a walk and got caught in the rain.”
    “Seriously? Who even takes walks these days?”
    I bristled. “I do!”
    “Okay, okay,” he replied. “Whatever you say.”
    “I do like to walk,” I muttered.
    Cole’s lips twisted as he regarded me. “Yeah, well, you don’t have to tell me