I crawl across the front seat, pushing the door open only for Luke to slam it shut. The paparazzi is blocking the right side, and the class clown is boggling the driver's side. They're supposed to be Brandon's closest friends, but they would rather watch the all-star quarterback punch him in the face.

The first time I saw Brandon pounding those guys from Club X-Rated, I didn't know it was real. Besides, it was over in like three seconds. Brandon hit the lead singer and his bandmates, and they all hit the floor. So I'm aware he can take care of himself. Still, I can't bear to watch him get into another fight because of me.

"This is pointless," I mutter, hitting the dashboard as a copy of Brandon's car keys falls from the sun visor into my hand.

"Let me guess, you're Ebony's bathroom attendant, so whenever she shits all over herself. You take her clothes off and wipe her ass. But tell me something." Donovan beams, rubbing his palms together.

His hazel eyes follow me as he continues. "Do you ever get hard, or are you more into piss play? No, wait, they say black girls are good on their knees." Donovan rubs his chin, contemplating his twisted statement.

I roll my eyes at Donovan's cute racist comment about black girls because, frankly, it doesn't even commute. Let's be honest. The last time I was laid, I floated in the sky with Wonder Boy, and anyone with sense could figure out that wasn't real. So if I'm a whore then everyone on Earth is a street walker; welcome to our world full of crazy kinks and stupid tricks.

I don't understand how Donovan can even say that with a straight face. The guy is a walking cum stained mattress filled with discarded, overused condoms, and don't ask about the sex toys. I know, for an opinion, he didn't use them on any of his one-night stands. I'm just saying it's worth noting.

"He's going down," Luke whispers to Cameron, staring at him from the opposite end of Brandon's car.

Cameron gives Luke an irritated look. "Just be ready."

I ponder what they're referring to as I focus my vision on Brandon. He stands there quietly, his chest rhythmically moving as he inhales air into his lungs to stay calm. The one thing I've noticed about Brandon is his mannerisms when he's moments from coming to blows with someone.

He doesn't like to egg on a fight with slurs because, at that point, he doesn't talk much. When he walked on stage earlier, he said nothing to no one. He just trashed the sound equipment and punched the closest guy in the jaw.

Donovan laughs continuously in Brandon's face as he holds his clenched fists by his side. He steps forward as his nostrils flare, and his eyes dart from me to his best friend. Out of everyone in their group, Brandon and Donovan were the closest.

If one boy swung at another guy, the other would always join in so he could pull him off his opponent. Between the two guys, they never fell down in a fistfight. They never shed a drop of blood nor broke down in fear.

A breeze flies inside the Mustang, causing my head to snap to the car's right and left sides. Cameron and Luke are slowly approaching Brandon's blindside. Cameron's sly comments suddenly surface as I witness the two guys sneak up on Brandon. I look at the keys in my hand as I tremble at this startling realization.

They're going to jump Brandon.

"I hope you got an army with you." Brandon challenges, staring intensely at Donovan.

Donovan cracks his knuckles. "No holding back because this time, there's no one to stop us."

"Screw this," I whisper, adjusting the rearview mirror and shoving the keys into the ignition.

Brandon stands there as Donovan's fist reels back with force. When Brandon catches his hand in midair, Donovan gazes at Luke and Cameron in the distance. I shove the keys into the ignition, placing my hands on both sides of the steering wheel.

I start the car as the headlights blaze into the darkness. Brandon gazes at me behind the driver's seat before his attention returns to the two traitors flanking him on both sides. I don't switch the gear into drive as Donovan punches Brandon in the jaw. Cameron wraps his large bicep around his neck, letting Donovan and Luke take turns bashing him in the gut.

My foot slams on the gas pedal like an insane race car driver revving the engine to prove a point. The three boys whip their heads towards me, wondering if I'm crazy enough to run them all over. Cameron releases his grip around Brandon's neck, trying to back away.

He instantly lives to regret it when he picks him up and throws him against the pavement on his back. Luke is the first to regain his composure as he swings at Brandon. Before he can land the blow, Brandon punches him hard in the neck. I put the car in drive this time, pressing my feet against the accelerator.

I press my hands together, saying a silent prayer for guidance. The only time I've ever driven a car was when I stole an old lady's purse, hopped in the nearest vehicle, and drove down the road. That was a game.

I grip the steering wheel, slamming my foot on the gas pedal when Brandon wraps his arm around Donovan's neck. Donovan claws at his eyes, gasping for air, but he can't muster enough strength to do anything besides pat his forehead. I swerve the car to the left side of the road, using the brake pads at the last second until the vehicle stops beside them. I open the passenger door, but Brandon keeps his hold on Donovan, seemingly unaware of the car three centimeters away.

"Get. In. The. Car." I say, honking the horn to each word.

Brandon finally glances at me before he takes a second to realize everything that just happened. He releases his grip on Donovan, letting him stumble on his hands and knees. Donovan coughs up a pool of spit while Cameron lays on the ground groaning in pain, and Luke is on the side of the street, massaging his vocal cords. I stare holes in the windshield, letting out a quiet whistle when the reigning champion slams the door close.

I reach for the gearshift when I suddenly realize a crucial problem in my carefully thought-out plan. "I can't drive," I whisper in defeat.

"Just put the car in driving and put your foot on the gas. You'll be fine." Brandon mutters, rubbing his hand on his forehead, showing his bruised knuckles.

I say a quick okay as I reach for the gearshift and stop midway, pulling my lips together. I never felt more like Roxane in my entire life, which is killing me. "I don't know where I'm going, and you're mad, so... I hope you have your sights set on Tokyo because I'm sure we'll make it there before we get back to Dodge City."

Brandon stares intensely at me. "You're telling me you'd cross an entire body of water before you made it back to Dodge City."

"I told you I don't know where I'm going, jerk."

"You would turn a 35-minute drive into 35 days, and I'm the asshole," Brandon says, articulately dragging out the sentence.

He keeps staring at me as if I told him unicorns are real. "Shrew you, Brandon!"

Brandon chuckles. "Just drive and don't stop until you reach New York, and if you manage to cross the Pacific Ocean in this car, you've gone too far."

If he keeps the smug remarks up, I think I'm seconds from pressing my issue with Brandon. 'Just drive,' he says after nearly choking a boy to death. If he weren't so undeniably hot, then I would slap him across the cheek, but of course, I'd take off running like a track star after I hit him. And again, they call me stupid.

"And Ebony." He calls out, masking his frustration.

"What, Brandon?" I question, digging my nails into the steering wheel.

"I told you I would make you say it."

"❦ ❦ ❦

I've been driving for around an hour, and I obviously have no idea what I am doing. I scope out upcoming alleyways and roads with precision. I use my 20/20 vision to overanalyze the possibility of oncoming traffic that never comes. I raise my shoulders to the height of my chin like I don't own a neck because I have to stay on guard at all times.

If my body swapped with someone else, and I saw myself behind the wheel, I could tell one or two things. One, I don't have the money to fix a broken hubcap on this Mustang. Two, if I crashed this car, I'd have to pay for it with my body, which is fine by me as long as Brandon's the one driving. But he wouldn't accept that currency, but what if his dad tries to cash in on my offer? Ew, that's gross have some self-respect, brain!

Okay, so I let the first ten times dust off my shoulders, but now I'm irritated. Ugh, that makes the eleventh time Brandon glanced at me and looked away, quietly laughing to himself. What's so funny? Is it something I said, or is my hair showing?

I adjust the beanie on my head, ensuring it covers up to the top of my ears. We made it into town five minutes ago, and I've been trying so hard to avoid returning to a pile of ashes. According to the speedometer, I've been going twenty miles an hour. I guess that's slow, considering Brandon has fallen asleep twice for about ten minutes. After all my hard work, we're still approaching the fork in the road to our separate neighborhoods.

Brandon clears his throat. "Take the next left."

I sigh, doing as my sexy navigation system instructs me to do without hesitation. Sometimes, I wonder if it's possible to disconnect my abdomen from my emotions. I hadn't eaten anything since the seventh period, and when Brandon offered to buy me a sandwich with my Coke, I refused. I couldn't sit across the table from him and eat simultaneously. My stomach wouldn't let me. What a wuss!

I'm so busy thinking of synonyms to describe my gut being on strike that I don't know where I'm going until Brandon grabs the steering wheel. I'm not the best at turning, so whenever I attempt to take one, my vehicle decides to maneuver to the opposite side of the street. I have no idea why it does that, but Brandon noticed this malfunction, too, so instead of yelling at me like Tracey would do.

The man once screamed if I crashed his shit, he would beat the hell out of me, so it's safe to say I never got behind the wheel of his car again. My brain turns on as dozens of two-story beach houses come into view. Brandon pulls into the driveway of the largest house on the block and parallel parks between an updated light blue Cadillac and a black Rolls Royce.

I put my foot on the brakes and cut the engine, admiring a row of pine trees and ferns scattering the house's perimeter. The cars are parked on a few feet of paved concrete, diverging into two condensed separate paths. A pristine lawn filled with evenly cut and symmetrical blades of grass takes over the entire yard except the center. A small pond encapsulated in limestone sits in front of the mansion.

Brandon leans on the car door he must've opened while I was drooling over this stunning house. "Your family is already inside," he says calmly, running his fingers through his short dark brown hair.

"What?" I stammer, still in a daze.

"I can't stop the pain, but I can promise you'll never be alone again." Brandon stretches his hand out to me.

I blink away the tears and whisper the last thing Lexie said. "When someone tries to get close to me, I push them away and tear them down."

I step outside Brandon's Mustang and trace my fingers from the end of his jacket to the collar. The thought has crossed my mind more times than I can count, but I never expected to act on any of my fantasies. If I wait to do this, it could be the start of something incredible, but a part of my heart knows nothing good will come from this stunt.

His cerulean blue eyes scrutinize my proximity, gazing deep inside my soul as I cup my hands behind his neck. I lean forward, wearing my heart on my sleeve and contemplating every second of it. After only one night of hanging out with Brandon what I'm about to do is definitely unprecedented.

This situation could end with me self-sabotaging my future with him or us living happily ever after. Alexis said I always find a way to push people away, so I'm giving the real Brandon one chance to sweep me off my feet. If not, I'll let it go and return to the person I was before Brandon Lockwood.

I stand on my tiptoes, leaning forward until I press my lips against the boy of my dreams. A few seconds pass as our kiss deepens, but its one-sided. I can feel Brandon retreating until he eventually pulls away. He catches his breath, nervously smiling as he rubs the back of his neck.

"Look, if I gave you the wrong impression," Brandon starts as I bite my bottom lip, "I'm sorry, but this was never about romance. I will always like you as a friend."

"Understood," I say in an unstable tone as a few tears rush down my cheek. Brandon reaches for me, but I quickly step backward, focusing on the pavement.

I look up as the front door opens, revealing an older woman with striking blue eyes and brunette hair. "Well, don't just stand there. Both of you come in this second. Hurry. Hurry, it's already a school night."

I walk away from Brandon and paint my biggest masterpiece yet—the world's fakest smile. I dash up the concrete stairway leading to the front of the house. "I'm sorry we're late, but after everything that happened, I needed a moment. Brandon was helping me. Thank you for inviting my family into your home."

"Aren't you a dear. I'm Brandon's mother, Evelyn, and you're welcome to stay as long as you need." Evelyn places her hand on my back. She leads me across the threshold of the beach house I'll live in for the next few months.

Brandon closes the door as I realize this is the same house my mother, Rose, and I used to drive by when I was a kid. We knew someday we would end up here together; at least, that's what we told ourselves.

AUTHORS NOTE

Ebony had her shoulders raised to the roof and she still doesn't know why me and Brandon were laughing. Okay, girl, it's nothing but love over here. Anyway, thank you guys so much for reading, The Last Black Unicorn. If you like this book please show support by taking the time to vote for each chapter. Thank you again and I hope you have a great holiday; God bless.