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All I want to do is finish my chapter.
Now clad in my favorite shorts and a white T-shirt, I set off towards Ethan’s grandparents’ house on the outskirts of town. As I turn onto the deserted stretch of road—recently paved for a new housing development—I spot Ethan’s bike on the front lawn. With his mom working nights, she usually stays up in the mornings to see Ethan, then sleeps through the afternoons. Which means that Ethan’s here for the rest of the day, either baking something delicious with his grandma, or helping Pops with odd jobs and/or treasure hunts.
And there are a lot of treasure hunts. Since retiring from the fire department, Pops has full rein to answer to his life’s calling.
I approach the house and am surprised to see that the garage door’s open. In all my years coming here, I think I’ve seen it open a total of eight times. Alfie’s prized blue pickup always gets the prestigious, temperature-controlled garage spot, while his beat-up station wagon sits in the driveway to freeze through the winters.
“Hello?” I call, but I don’t see anyone. In fact, it’s almost suspiciously quiet.
Then, I notice that the pickup is moving. Backing down the driveway.
Pops must be going somewhere. I step out of the way and raise a hand to wave.
As it rolls past me, my jaw pops open.
The driver’s seat is empty.
“NOO!”
I swivel to see Ethan sprinting down the driveway, a string of expletives coming from his mouth.
“Stop the truck!” he bellows as he runs into the empty street.
My reflexes kick into gear and I follow him at a run. Not that it’s necessary… the truck’s going maybe two miles an hour.
He braces himself against the back bumper, and I join him. The truck comes to a stop.
“What happened?” I gasp, shoving my hip into the bumper.
“Emergency brake,” Ethan grunts, frowning as he rubs his jaw. He’s shaved since this morning. “Why did I release the emergency brake?”
“Yeah, that was stupid.”
“It was in first gear, though.” He’s staring at the pickup like it personally offended him. “It wasn’t meant to roll.”
I unstick myself from the bumper and go around the side. “It’s in neutral.”
Ethan’s eyes widen and he looks so perplexed for a moment, I almost burst into laughter. He lets out another few curse words as he comes around to the passenger side and firmly raises the emergency brake.
“What are you doing with the truck anyway?” I ask. Ethan’s hilariously awful at driving manual transmission. Or it would be hilarious, if it wasn’t alarming that he was clearly planning on taking the truck out alone.
“I was going to teach myself to drive it. Pops gave me enough pointers, I think I can do it.” He bites the inside of his cheek. “It was for tonight. Meant to be part of your surprise.”
I blink innocently. “To crash Pops’s precious baby? Oh, shucks. You shouldn’t have.”
He gives me a look.
I smile sweetly, then gesture at the pickup. “Get in. I’ll teach you.”
“You want to teach me how to drive stick shift?”
“No. I want to teach you not to run over pedestrians.”
Ethan rolls his eyes. “It’s just that…” He looks at the ground and shifts. “You know…”
“What?”
“You’re the worst backseat driver.”
