49
Scott turned the engine over, twisting the key heavily. When the engine bit, he sat staring out of the windshield, wondering what happened. He slammed his hands into the steering wheel so hard, his palms stung. He had Abigail on the dance floor, poised and waiting. Why was he sabotaging himself?
His cell rang in his pocket. Thinking it would be Abigail, but worried it might be Aunt Cora, he retrieved it and checked the caller ID: Abbie. Instead of answering, he placed it on the passenger seat as he reversed his truck. The last person he wanted to speak to was her.
Heading along the drive, Scott mulled over his next move. If he stayed in Ridgmont, he would inevitably bump into Abigail, or Elise. He had to leave town for a couple of days. If he came back on Monday, she would have left
