Page 97 of Debugging Love

Morgan’s lips flatten into a line.

“I have baby wipes,” Chance says as an olive branch.

“Why do you have baby wipes?” I ask.

He flips open the console and pulls out an unopened package of soothing aloe baby wipes for sensitive skin. Before handing it back, he says matter-of-factly, his challenging gaze fixed on mine, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Morgan grabs the package eagerly and starts cleaning her face. She hands a few wipes to Drew. He gives himself a wipe-down, including his armpits. Unfortunately, I’m watching, so I notice Morgan’s jaw drop when she gets an eyeful of Drew’s abs. Feeling slightly sick, I turn back around.

“Why aren’t we moving yet?” Morgan asks.

Chance grabs his phone and pulls up Google Maps. “I have no idea because this says traffic is moving.”

“Maybe the Russians are shooting down our satellites,” Drew says.

“Because that’s the most likely explanation,” I mutter to myself. I grab the phone from Chance to verify. True to his word, I-20 is blue for miles beyond our dot.

“I’m freezing,” Morgan says, her voice wobbly.

“You told me to crank the AC,” Chance says.

“Well, now I’m cold.”

“I am hot,” Drew says.

“Take the sweatpants off your neck,” I offer.

“No,” he says. “They are helping.”

The brake lights in front of us extinguish and traffic starts to creep.

“I-20 just turned red,” I say, still looking at Google Maps.

Soon, we’re trundling along at fifteen miles an hour, the lane next to us stopping when we start and vice versa.

“I’m freeee-z-z-z-ing,” Morgan says five minutes later.

Chance raises the AC a notch, but Morgan has other ideas. She presses the button beside the skylight and it whirs open. When it’s fully retracted, she straddles Drew and stands, half her body inside, the other half out. Drew grabs her legs.

“What…are you doing?” Drew says, fully articulating the final ‘t,’ which necessitates the pause. “Do you want to decapitate yourself?”

“Weeee!” Morgan says as our speed increases to twenty-five miles an hour.

“I do not want…to be holding half a dead body.” Drew grabs Morgan’s waist and pulls her onto his lap. She lands with a little bounce and says, “Weee.” Much softer this time with her eyes glued to Drew’s eyes.

Chance and I trade looks.

Instead of hopping off of Drew, which would be the less icky thing to do, she starts picking burrs out of his hair. They remain that way until we pass the cause of the traffic jam: a couple of SUVs with mangled front ends. When the road is wide open, Chance jams his foot on the gas, and Drew throws Morgan off his lap while hollering, “Seat belts!”

We’re moving.

Chapter 22

Chance

I can’t shake the sound of Danni’s voice or the look on her face when she said our kiss was “nothing.” How can my first kiss be her nothing? I thought I was good at reading the room.

Right now she seems unhappy. I’m pretty sure about that. She’s been cranky since the moment I picked her up. I can’t be with a cranky girl with no sense of humor. Isn’t that what I said?

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