9781250209153

4
The next morning, I hustle out the door with my shoes half tied. Carpooling
home last night was uneventful—we literally didn’t speak—but I don’t
expect the beast to slumber for long. I plan to be outside her house way
before our seven thirty departure time, just to prove a point.
But when I pull into Irene’s driveway at 7:23, she’s already outside. Of
course.
“How long were you waiting?” I ask when she opens the door.
She takes her time replying, setting her bags all over my seat. “A few
minutes.”
It feels like she’s saying that just to piss me off, so the moment she’s
seated, I jerk the car backward with extra force. Her coffee thermos spills
over the cupholder.
“Dude,” she says angrily.
“Whoops, sorry,” I say breezily. “There are napkins in the glove
compartment.”
She wipes up the spill more carefully than I expected her to. “Can you
turn your music down?” she grumbles. “It’s too early for this shit.”
“This is Fine Young Cannibals.”
“I know who it is.”
“Sure you do.”
“Oh, you’re right, you’re the only person our age who’s really into
eighties music. I forgot how exceptionally unique you are.”
Instead of responding, I turn up the music until I’m full-on blasting it.
She literally scoffs and turns away from me. We don’t speak again for the
rest of the ride.