Page 109 of Rebel Summer

The dark look Dax shot me filled my rebellious little cup to the brim.

I began laughing and pressed on the gas, growing bold enough to punch the speedometer up to a whopping thirty miles per hour.

I was just past the bend in the road next to Dax’s shop, heading toward the town square, when he leaned forward, peering out the window.

“Hold up,” he said.

“What?”

“There’s lights coming our way. In front of us.”

I squinted to see where he was pointing. Sure enough, just past the streetlights of the town square, a lone golf cart was idling up the road, headed toward the east side of the square, directly in our path.

“What do we do?” I asked, my heart picking up speed while I watched the lights slowly growing closer. “If we go back to the shop, he’ll see us pull into your garage.”

Dax looked all around. “Okay, punch it, and we’ll go around the square on the other side and wait for him to pass.”

I brought the car up to a breakneck speed of forty miles per hour, the nerves in the air heightening the exhilaration I felt. “Maybe from a distance he’ll think we’re another golf cart.”

“The car is twice as wide. They’ll know,” Dax said. “Turn off the lights. There’s enough light from the street for us to see.”

I immediately began pressing buttons and flipping switches around the car while my heart began to thrum chaotically inside my chest. The blinkers and windshield wipers began blinking and flapping in disordered mayhem, which resulted in me pushing levers and buttons at random. Dax leaned forward and caged my hands against the wheel while he turned off the lights.

Without the headlights, the streetlights became more visible, lighting corners of the town square and casting a golden hue as far as the light could reach.

“Turn here. We’ll go around the square this way,” Dax whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” I teased as we passed the cafe. “That guy can’t hear you.”

He looked at me, his mouth slightly aghast. “I need you to answer me seriously. Are you on something right now?”

I swatted his arm, but didn’t answer. I was too busy checking my rearview mirror while racing down the street, making a dash for the corner to hide out before we were spotted. We were playing the ultimate game of hide and seek, and it was completely exhilarating.

“Not bad,” Dax said, flipping around to watch out the back windshield. “I could have used you back in high school.”

I put the car in park, with the back bumper barely visible, as we both watched out the back window for signs of the golf cart. Eventually, it appeared and kept ambling up the road toward the resort while Dax and I released a sigh of relief.

When we no longer saw the brake lights from the cart, we turned back around in our seats. My fingers drummed the steering wheel.

“Where to next? Should we cruise the whole island?”

“Let’s get you back to the garage, Hot Rod.”

Somewhat reluctantly, I put the car into drive and was about to move again when Dax cried out.

“Hold up, another cart’s coming. From the resort.”

“What are these people doing? It’s two in the morning!”

“Hold on, let’s see where he’s headed. If he’s going south, he won’t see us.”

I waited, my body tensing slightly, though not as much as I would have expected. Dax even made the thought of probation violation insignificant.

“He’s coming this way! We gotta move.”

“What?! Why?”

“Go! Go!”

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