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I sighed, already annoyed with the entire night. “We’ll take Crow’s car.”
She twisted her fingers together in front of her. “But I don’t drive.”
She was ridiculous. I was about to say fuck it and sit back down.
“Of course, you do.” Then I remembered Crow’s car was a manual. “Wait … can you drive a stick?”
At my words, I laughed. “What am I saying? Of course, you can’t drive a stick.”
She put her small hands on her hips, annoyed with me. “I know how to drive a manual. I just don’t.”
We were wasting time. “Whatever. Come on.”
Then I walked away, knowing she would follow me.
Five minutes later, I was on the passenger’s side of Crow’s car, an older Honda he had tricked out. It was a hot car—black with teal neons and enough NOS to blow our asses to pieces.
I didn’t tell her that, though. She was already freaking out about driving. I could have driven, but I had way too much to drink. It was comical because she was the only person in the world who didn’t want to drive Crow’s baby, and yet, she was the only other person besides me and Crow who had driven the car.
The only reason he had even agreed to let us use it was because he trusted me and who I trusted. I didn’t know Everly well, but I knew she was going to drive like a grandma and get us there in one piece.
“How old are you anyway?” I asked from my side of the car.
I looked over at her and watched the lights of the oncoming cars play across the soft skin of her face. She was gripping the wheel with both hands until it was time to switch the gears.
“I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks.”
I whistled. “Wow. You’re a fucking kid.”
She didn’t take her eyes off the road. “I’m not.”
“What kind of seventeen-year-old doesn’t drive?”
By the time I was seventeen, I had already stolen so many cars I could drive anything.
“The kind like me, I guess.” She shrugged.
She was unique. I had thought it repeatedly, but the differences were glaring every time I spent time alone with her. Like the day I had taken her home. Most girls would have spent the trip playing with my dick through my jeans.
Not Everly.
She latched onto me, her nails biting into my skin through my shirt, and when I caught glimpses of her in the mirrors, she was lying her head back with her eyes closed as if she were a part of the wind.
It was beautiful, and I wanted to keep driving so she could continue to enjoy the ride. That was the first time I didn’t want to dump a chick from the back of my bike. The way she held on to me. The feel of her thighs against my hips. It was different because she was different.
“And what kind are you?” I asked, my voice breaking with the words.
She pulled up to a stop sign and sighed. “The kind who is too afraid to live.”
14 Everly
HE WATCHED MEfrom the passenger’s side of the small car, making me even more uncomfortable. For one, I didn’t drive. Ever. I had a few times in Seattle, but the anxiety that came with driving was too much.
For two, I was driving a stick shift. My father had taught me how, after swearing everyone should know how to drive a manual, but again, I was rusty since I had learned but never did it.
Then there was the fact that I was driving Crow’s car. I didn’t know much about Crow. I had never spoken to him, but he was scary. Big. Tall. Mean. If I did something to his car, I was positive he would kill me and toss my body.
The car jerked when I switched to second gear.
