P.D.’s Reviews > Odd One Out > Status Update

What? Did they seriously think there was a tracker in her? That would be . . . insane, like about everything else that had transpired in the last couple of days. Shoot! She totally had a tracker in her!

“What have you been telling her? And here I thought you’d have my back when it counted.”
He shrugged as he crossed his arms. “I’ll save your life, but character assassinations are totally fine by me.”

The passenger seat in front of Samantha shifted and bumped against her knee as Riley gave a small chuckle. “Better to be precautious than dead.”
Jay snorted before Samantha heard the clicking of the turn signal. “You should put that on a pillow or something. You might even get it tattooed on your forehead, since I’m pretty sure you’re allergic to being precautious. Oh . . . maybe they can put it on your grave stone.”

“Fine,” she huffed, shoving herself off of the bed. “Now, get out of my room.”
Riley smirked at her. “I’m not in your room,” he said, glancing down toward where he was just on the other side of the threshold. 
Unbelievable.
Sometimes he really did act like he was the thirteen-year-old and not Samantha.

“Oh . . . you’re not off the hook,” Cookie said, turning and pointing a finger at Riley. “I have no doubt that he was telling the truth about this being mostly your fault, even if he’s not completely innocent. You are a trouble magnet.”

“I think you enjoy throwing things at me too much.”
“Of course not,” Riley said, giving Jay a confused look. “I just do it for the enjoyment of when you don’t catch it in time and it smacks you in the face.”

“Come on, Jay-Roo,” Riley drawled, taking another step back until he was almost to the curb as he flashed his friend a grin. “There’s really only one way to prove that I am right, and you are wrong, as per usual.”

Ugh. Samantha was pretty sure pulling teeth would be easier than this.

Riley scoffed. “I’m pretty sure it’s not a ‘myth,’” he said, smirking at her. “Myths are things like . . . dragons and four leaf clovers.”

“Who’s ready to be totally irresponsible?”
“You mean like every other day of your life?” Sammy drawled, eyeing the worn and torn duffle bag that she was pretty sure her brother all but lived out of.
“Ouch! Way to go for the jugular, little sis,” he said, stepping over his duffle bag to throw his arm over Samantha’s shoulder. “I approve.”