7
" Shhhh,” Johnny soothed, sliding his hands up and down her back, nuzzling her hair. “Car thieves don’t cry, baby. You gotta toughen up if you’re gonna have a future with good old Clyde here.”
“I like it when you do that.”
“What?”
“Call me baby,” Maggie whispered.
“You liked it when I called you Bonnie too,” he replied with a smile in his voice. “Why?”
“You used to call me baby all the time. It makes me believe you can love me again.”
Johnny wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and lifted her to him, kissing her tear-streaked cheeks before he touched his lips to hers.
“I’m already there Maggie. I fell in love when you begged me to help you escape the cops. I fell in love when we danced to Nat King Cole singing ‘Stardust’ on a moonlit beach. Hell, I fell in love when you told me how blondes spell farm.”
“E-I-E-I-O,” Maggie quipped wetly.
Johnny laughed and held her tightly. "
― Amy Harmon , Prom Night in Purgatory (Purgatory, #2)
8
" Is she gone, then?” Lizzie asked, her mouth turned down in a slight frown.
“I don’t know,” Johnny answered carefully. “We had a picnic out at the reservoir after the dance. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, she was gone. But her shoes were still there.”
“Oh.” Lizzie nodded, as if her question had been satisfied. She finished off her ice cream and proceeded to lick her fingers clean.
“So do you know where she is?” Johnny was really trying not to get impatient, but so far he had gotten exactly nowhere. He wondered if Lizzie Honeycutt was good at chess.
“She probably went back,” Lizzie dutifully protected her queen.
“Back where? "
― Amy Harmon , Prom Night in Purgatory (Purgatory, #2)
16
" They went to Shimmies again, but this time Johnny pulled into the long line at the drive thru, and Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. She was too tired for drama, and Shimmies was full of teen angst. Maggie took one look at the menu board and knew what she wanted. She always got the same thing. Johnny was still reading the menu, a frown of disbelief between his brows. She guessed that the prices were a tad bit higher than he was used to. Oh well, she’d warned him, hadn’t she?
“Do you need me to buy?” She asked softly. Johnny shot her a look that would have caused her to shrivel up and die had she not grown a rather thick skin over the years. Still, she cringed a little bit. He clearly took her offer as an insult.
“I’ve got plenty of money... but it had better be a darn good burger. The last burger I ate cost fifteen cents.”
“Fifteen?” Maggie squeaked.
Johnny tossed his heads toward the window at the gas station they could see across the road. The fuel prices were displayed on a large marquee. “A gallon of gas used to cost me a quarter. I can’t believe people are still driving cars at these prices.” He looked back at her, his expression unreadable. “You already know what you want?” He changed the subject abruptly.
“I always get the same thing.”
“Not too adventurous, huh?
“Life is disappointing enough without having to take chances on your food. I always go with the sure thing "
― Amy Harmon , Prom Night in Purgatory (Purgatory, #2)
17
" Do you need a ride?” He said again.
“No, actually.”
“Come on. I’ll take you home.”
I don’t need a ride. That’s my bike.” Maggie pointed to the bike at his feet. He didn’t look down at the bike, which made Maggie think he was aware all along that it was hers.
“It’ll fit in my trunk.”
“No, thank you. I’ll ride it home. It’s a big bike.”
“It’s a big trunk.”
Maggie stared at him, confused by his sudden appearance and his even more sudden interest in spending time in her company.
“Why?”
“It was made that way. Most of the cars made in the ‘50’s had decent sized trunks.”
“Ha ha, very funny. That’s not what I meant and you know it. Why do you want to take me home?” Maggie almost smiled at his dry attempt at humor. But she didn’t. It still hurt too much to look at him, to be near him, and her smile stayed dormant.
“I want to talk to you.”
“I had the very distinct impression the last time we were together that I made you angry. Plus, I’m thinking your driver’s license is long expired. You shouldn’t be driving.”
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Johnny mimicked her. “Have you always been such a goody-two shoes?”
“Nobody says goody-two-shoes anymore!” Maggie said crossly and walked to her bike, squatting beside it to undo the lock.
“Maggie,” he coaxed. “Maggie?” She really tried not to look up at him. “How do you drive a blonde crazy?”
Maggie’s head shot up, and her eyes locked on his.
“You put him in a round room and tell him to sit in the corner,” Johnny quipped, but his eyes were serious.
“Not bad, Kinross. Did you make that up yourself? "
― Amy Harmon , Prom Night in Purgatory (Purgatory, #2)
