Jane wasn’t exactly notorious for breaking the rules.
No, in fact, she’d gotten the reputation of being a slight Goody-Two-Shoes.
Which was partially the reason she’d accepted that first ride home from school with Bucky Barnes. To kind of…stir the pot a little. Redistribute the wealth.
Because, even though she wasn’t ACTUALLY breaking the rules…it kind of felt…good. Sitting in the passenger seat of his Iroc. Yes. He drove an Iroc. Black and shiny. Loud as hell.
She didn’t know what possessed him to offer at all.
She was tutoring him in Chemistry after school when her ride home fell through. She didn’t live far, though. And it was completely feasible for her to walk home. It wouldn’t have inconvenienced her at all.
But there he was, jamming papers into the book and slamming it shut, getting up to walk to the door, jingling slightly. Keys in his pocket. Chain on his wallet. He stopped at the door, smacking the doorframe as if to stop himself from walking out.
“I can give you a ride home, Foster.”
She slid her binder into her backpack, shouldering it soundly before answering him. “You don’t have to.”
He glanced over at her for a split second. “Fine. Whatever…” he started to leave, swinging by his hand around the door frame and into the hall.
His grip tightened and he reappeared in the door, looking at her quizzically.
He shrugged and let go of the door, pushing his hair back out of his face. “S’out back.”
They didn’t speak again. She stared at her feet as she followed him, practically having to run to keep up.
He opened the door for her. Waited for her to drop her backpack into the floorboards. To plop nervously into the seat. It smelled like grease and whatever the purple air freshener hanging from his mirror was supposed to smell like.
He slammed the door behind her. His shoes crunched in the gravel as he circled the car and Jane fumbled for the seat belt, clicking it in place as he slid into the driver’s seat. “You live over on Blaine Ave, right?”
She nodded rapidly, unsure of how he knew that.
“Steve lives over there…” he muttered.
“Oh…” she nodded, fully aware of the skinny blond guy that was always hanging around with Bucky. “I didn’t know he lived over there…”
As it turned out, Steve lived at the opposite end of the street, so it was no wonder she’d never noticed him. Never noticed Bucky’s loud as hell muffler coming to pick him up every morning.
He idled outside her house. Parked, left it running. Got out, circled around to get the door for her. Or he would have if she hadn’t already gotten out and slung her bag over her shoulder.
“Oh…” she jumped when she turned around, running right into his chest.
His arms steadied her for a second. He smirked, “I was gonna come let you out. Door’s tricky.”
She blushed, “I guess I figured it out.”
His smirk turned into a full grin for a nanosecond, disappearing again as he took a step back, allowing her to hop up over the curb and traipse halfway across her lawn before turning back. His hand was in his hair again.
“Thank you, Bucky. Thanks for the ride.”
He shrugged and slammed her door. “No problem…If ya want…I could…swing by here in the mornings. So ya don’t have to ride the bus.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “How do YOU know I ride the bus?”
“I seen ya around…” There was a hint of a smirk again.
She felt herself nodding. “Okay. Yeah. Okay.”
“Pick ya up around 7:00?”
She nodded again. “Yeah. Okay.”
He smacked the hood of his car for emphasis, “See ya then.”
She turned just as he was pulling away, gunning it all the way to the four-way stop. And she sort of couldn’t stop smiling as she walked up her porch steps. Suddenly really excited for the next morning.