Hip-hop, no less. Definitely **

not my cup of tea, but hey, it's not my freaking radio.

Joel seems to like it. He jerks his head back and forth till **

he looks like a bobblehead with a really loose spring.

Beside me, Shaun stretches his legs till his right knee rests **

against my left, totally creeping me out.

Awesome song, huh?

I jerk my knee away from his.

"Uh, sure." If you like songs **

without music. More like ebonic poetry. Before I finish the thought, Shaun's leg has found its way back to mine. "Need more room?"

Warmer like this, don't you think?

Here comes his arm.

224.

I turn and give him my most evil glare. "What are you doing?"

Nothing.

His arm withdraws, but only a little.

Thought you'd like it.

Irritation flares, red in my face.

"Oh. really? And why is that?"

He shrugs.

Heard Ian talking.

He said you're into other guys.

Irritation fans into anger. "Is that so? Well, you can just tell **

your brother for me that I am most certainly not into other--"

A sudden thwunk-thwunk-thwunk interrupts the conversation.

The Toyota yanks itself hard to the right and Brittany fights **

to stay in control.

Oh, man!

I think we've got a flat tire.

225.

Flat Barely Describes It The entire sidewall is gone, what's left of the tread part, shredded.

We're not going anywhere, not on this tire. "Do you have a spare?"

I.

dunno, but even if I do, I have no idea how to change it. Do you guys?

She looks at the boys, who shake their heads in unison.

We're already late for school.

Not much we can do but be later. "Okay, then. Do you have like AAA or something?"

"I.

dunno. Oh, wait. My mom showed me a number to call.

It goes with our cell service.

She leans into the car.

As she roots through the glove box, I notice cars slowing a bit as they drive by. Something about four late-for-school kids, **

looking helpless as hell beside a useless car, barely pulled onto the shoulder?

Could be it, I guess.

226.

Then again, you might think one of them would stop and offer to help.

But no, they cruise on by.

Here it is!

says Brittany, punching at her cell phone.

Hi. Um. I guess I need help.

er...roadside assistance?

If she giggles one more time, I'm going to push her out into oncoming traffic. We stand, stupid **

as hell, waiting for a tow truck. My teeth chatter, and Shaun dares to move closer. Really, really close.

Once again, his arm tries to slide around my shoulder, and I shrink from the touch of his calloused skin. "No."

What is your fucking problem?

I'm just trying to keep you warm. Oh, that's right.

You prefer being frigid.

227.

His Term or Ian's?

It's going to bug me all day.

I always thought Ian was on my side, that he understood, if not everything, that I am only lukewarm because I'm damaged.

Frigid? Maybe I am. But why should it even be a topic of conversation with Shaun?

Did Ian call me that? And did he really say I'm into other guys?

Who did he say it to? And why?

Wait...a sudden "aha" strikes.

Madison. Would she have told him such a thing, sunk so low?

And why would he believe her?

A stronger person would go straight to the source, confront him, ask if any of the things his little brother had to say could possibly be true.

But I could never do that.

What if I just couldn't stand to hear what he had to say?

What if he walked away?

What if I lost him completely?

228.

The Tow Truck Finally Arrives And I still don't have any answers, despite a good forty minutes, standing here with nothing else to do but think.

Shaun finally gave up on me and moved on to Brittany, who's obviously into Joel.

Shaun is a total clod.

How can he be Ian's brother?

They're about the same as straight sex and gay sex-- some similarities, but different in ways that really count.

One thing I do know is that if Ian deserts me, I'll never repair the giant rip in my life.