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“Well, more me than you,” Dewey said.
Paige shot him a narrow-eyed sideways glance. “I’d say fifty-fifty.”
“Maybe seventy-thirty. You are a newbie.”
Paige rocked the car’s wheel, sending Dewey rolling side to side like a rag doll.
“Okay, sixty-forty,” Dewey responded as he righted himself.
“I’ll give you that,” Paige said, “since I’m not that good at research.”
“That’s my extra ten percent.”
“Really, though, you should have a percentage subtracted, because as good as you are at research, you’re terrible at fieldwork.”
“What do you expect? I haven’t been out of the library in over a decade,” Dewey replied. “And plus, I’m improving. This time, you’re just purple, not melted.”
Paige reached for the dash and turned the heater up. “It’s getting colder by the second.”
“Yeah,” Dewey said, climbing onto the console and digging in Paige’s tote. “Hope you don’t mind I stored my sweater in your bag.”
He tugged it over his head and fought to shimmy it down around his torso. His wings flapped in the air as they tried to poke through the wing holes cut into the fabric.
“Will you stop that? You’re going to make me wreck,” Paige said, her features pinching as she leaned away from him.
“I can’t help it. The stupid fabric is caught on my wing.” Dewey flicked his wing again, his arm trying to stretch behind him to free it.
“Stop,” Paige groaned, shoving his wing aside as she struggled to keep an eye on the road.
Large white flakes fell from the sky, sticking to her windshield before melting into a drop of liquid.
“Just tug the fabric down around it, huh?”
The snow intensified, gusting across the windshield as an icy wind whipped around them.
“I can’t. I’m trying to drive. And it’s starting to snow. I can barely see anything.”
Dewey continued to struggle with his sweater as Paige slowed down, flicking on the windshield wipers and peering into the ever-darkening sky.
“This is just great. I hope this car can make it.”
“Should have gotten an SUV.” Dewey grunted as he spun in a circle, trying to reach the fabric.
Paige glanced over at him. “Oh my gosh, you are so distracting.”
She took one hand off the wheel and reached over, trying to tug the fabric from his wing. She wrinkled her nose as she wrangled with the sweater, grunting with effort as she pulled.
“Ow! Careful!”
“Sorry,” she said in a less-than-apologetic tone. “The stupid thing is stuck.”
“I told you it was stuck. There’s a string or something…” Dewey twisted his neck to stare down at his back. “It’s pulling.”
Paige flicked her gaze at the sweater. “Yeah, I see it. It’s caught on your spike.”
She returned her eyes to the road as her fingers blindly tried to free the string wrapped around the horn.
“Ow,” Dewey cried again.
