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"It was a bad joke," I tell him.
"Do you want to go back to the firefly field? I still have the blanket in my car."
"Only if you let me drive."
"Uh, do you have a license?"
"No. But I know how to drive."
He hesitates. "You don't know how to swim, but you know how to drive?"
"Do you really want to know how I learned how to drive?"
"Was it illegal?"
"Yes."
"Maybe I shouldn't know. Not yet." And with a heavy exhale, he pulls out his keys. "How's your hand?"
"Sore but fine. Won't affect my driving, I swear," I reply eagerly
"And you know how to drive stick?"
I nod, my eyes twinkling. He sets the keys in my hands, holds on to them for a contemplative second, and finally releases them. I throw my arms around him and squeal like Kaely.
"Why are you two still here?" Nancy asks. "If you don't want to be cut--"
"We're leaving right now," Grant announces.
"I'll meet you in the parking lot," I tell him as I enter the event locker room to change.
Grant tries to remain calm when we pull out of the parking lot. It takes me a few gear changes to get used to his clutch. He traps his commentary behind pursed lips with every grind of the gears and jolt of the car. But I figure it out fast enough, and we fly through the wooded roads, the day settling into twilight. Grant probably wouldn't have agreed to let me drive if it was already dark.
He soon figures out that I need more notice than a "turn here" if he doesn't want to be forced to grip the outside of the door as I squeal around the corner. When we finally reach the firefly field, he visibly exhales like he hasn't been breathing the entire car ride.
"Who taught you to drive?" he asks, stepping out of the car and taking another deep breath to settle his nerves.
"Um, I did," I tell him. "You want to know the rest?"
"Give it to me," he says, bracing himself.
"One of my best friend's brothers used to steal cars, just to take them on joy rides. Sometimes we were with him. And sometimes he'd let us drive."
"You had a very interesting childhood, didn't you, Lana?" he replies, trying to make light of it. I can't tell if he really is this easy going about my illegal escapades or he's hiding his shock really well. I still question if this much honesty is good for him. Or me.
"Maybe you shouldn't hear too much more about my colorful life," I tell him. He retrieves the blanket from the trunk and takes my hand to walk out into the field. "Grant, you realize you and I are from complete opposite worlds, right? I mean, they write stories and stupid movies based on characters like us. We couldn't be any more cliche if we tried."
He spreads the blanket on the ground and sits, waiting for me to join him. "Why? Because I come from a stable home, and yours is a little more ... free-spirited?"
"That was the nicest way of describing my insane life that I've ever heard," I say, laughing. "Then again, it's kind of what Ashton said when she called us unrated."
He gives me a questioning look. "Basically the same thing," I tell him. "My mother and I don't have the typical parental relationship. Maybe because she was so young when she had me. Or maybe because I pretty much grew up overnight." I shiver.
Grant swaths me in an embrace and rubs my arms to warm me up, thinking I'm cold.
"I had to help pay the bills after my grandmother died, so it's been a crazy few years. And my tendency to get into fights hasn't helped with the crazy."
"But you have people who care about you, right? Your mom? Your friends?"
