“Where are we going?”
“You’re getting a driving lesson.”
“Now?”
I don’t bother answering a dumb question.
“With you?”
Again, not worth answering.
“I-I can’t do it today.”
“Why not?”
“I have homework,” she says hurriedly. “And…yeah, homework.”
“Well, you’ll have to do your homework later. You’re going to spend the next ninety minutes driving this car.”
“Why? I mean, why does it have to be today? I can’t do it today.”
She’s lying. I don’t know why she’s so worried, though.
“Because I’m not going to be your goddamn Uber, Runt. You’re going to be driving by the end of the week, so we can move past this bullshit.”
“I’ve never even been behind the wheel!” she wails.
“But you have a permit?”
She nods, miserably. “Yeah. My mom made me get one last year.”
I reach for the door handle and throw the door open. “Then the time has come.” I climb out of the car and walk around.
When Rayne doesn’t get out, I yank her door open. “Let’s go, Rayne.”
She lets out a little whimper but doesn’t move. “I really…I don’t want to.”
I cock my head. “Are you scared?”
She sits perfectly still, staring straight forward as if she can pretend I’m not standing here.
“What are you scared of?” I don't know what possesses me, but I take her hand like I'm a gentleman, and we're on a date. I tug gently to urge her out of her seat and put her fake Converse high tops on the ground.
When she looks up at me uncertainly, I know I was right.
“There's nothing to it, Rayne. It's super easy.”
“Super easy for you,” she mutters. “I'm defective, remember?”
I snort. “Your genes have nothing to do with your driving ability.” Why on earth would she think that had anything to do with it? Every human drives. It's not like you need special abilities.
She takes a step then stops. “I don't even know if my feet reach the pedals.”
This time I laugh for real.
“You're not that short, Runt. I think you’re functioning from a warped sense of self here.”
As I say the words, an uneasy feeling shifts through my chest. Something slightly guilty.