“I don’t know, little bit of this, little bit of that.”
He buckles his seatbelt staring at me, and I see his eyes flick down to my mouth then back up. I’m about to make fun of him for it but then he leans over and kisses me, when he pulls back he’s got a smile that’s almost shy. I want to grab his face and pull him back in but he’s already settling into the seat.
I put the car in drive and his hand goes straight to the door handle, fingers curled around it like he’s expecting me to veer into oncoming traffic. I want to be offended but honestlyit’s kind of cute how concerned he looks, bracing for impact even though we’re barely going faster than twenty-five.
“Are you planning to jump out of a moving vehicle?”
“I’m just now realizing this is the first time I’ve ever been in a car with you driving.” I see him check the side mirror, then my speed. Probably calculating stopping distances in his head because that’s how his brain works. “It’s slightly terrifying.”
“Why is it terrifying? I’m a great driver.” I press the gas a little harder, accelerating as we approach the intersection right at the light changes.
“That’s a yellow light. Yellow light. Mackie, you’re about to run a yellow light!” He’s gesturing with one arm and clutching the door with the other like we’re in a high speed pursuit.
“Yellow means go faster, everyone knows that.” I slap the back of my hand against the roof of the car as we cross under the light and the look he gives me tells me he thinks I’m legitimately insane. “I just earned us five minutes. Aren’t you even a little superstitious? Running lights is good luck. Yellows earn you five and reds earn you ten.”
“Five minutes ofwhat?”
“I don’t know. The game of life? It’s like going through checkpoints on the racing games. You should be thanking me for making that checkpoint.”
I take a turn a little sharper than necessary and watch him grab the handle for real this time.
“Don’t be nervous. When I was fifteen my dad signed me up for this high performance driving school and I can do all the things.”
He looks at me, one hand still death-gripping the door, the other braced against the center console. “What things?”
“Oh, you know, panic stops, threshold braking, wet roads, J-turns. I know how to drive stick, do pit maneuvers?—”
“Mackie, there’s no way you actually—” He stops and rubs his hand over his face. “You pit maneuvered a car?”
“WELL NOT INTENTIONALLY!”
“So you unintentionally pit maneuvered a car. How does that even happen!?”
“It means there was an incident in a Costco parking lot that we don’t talk about and my mom’s SUV has never been the same.” I shrug. “Anyway the point is I’m a very skilled driver and you’re safe with me.”
“I don’t feel safe.”
“That’s a you problem.”
He laughs, but it’s more of a choked helpless sound, and his hand finally relaxes off the door handle.
The pet store parking lot is oddly full for a Saturday afternoon, which means I have to circle twice before I find a spot. Zach raises his eyebrows and I can tell he’s silently judging my parking job because I’ve ended up slightly crooked and maybe a little too close to the line.
“Don’t say it.” I point at him.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I was thinking that we’re at a pet store.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and looks between me and the building. “Why are we at a pet store?”
“My mom needs cat food. For Mr. Noodles.”
“You have a cat?”
“My parents have a cat. He’s like fifteen and he hates everyone except my dad. It’s a whole thing.” I’m already getting out of the car because if I sit here any longer I’m going to have to explain the entire history of Mr. Noodles and how he once bit a plumber and my mom had to pay for the hospital bill and the stitches. “Come on, this’ll be quick. In and out.”
“Why do I feel like that’s not true?”
