Page 11 of Shut Up and Drive

“Stick around, I’m the king of disappointing others. I’ll show you my ways.”

“Why would you say that?” she asks.

“I don’t know where you’ve been the last few years, but that’s the only accomplishment I have under my belt. You became a pastry chef, Bash became a Secret Service agent, my sister and brother became a dentist and a judge, and I became an embarrassment to my family. Everyone knows that. My parents, your parents…” I trail off.

“That’s not true, Thane, and I hope deep down you know that.”

My throat tightens around the self-doubt that I carry like a backpack—ever present, weighing me down just enough to keep me stuck. When I stay silent, she steals a glance in my direction, but I’m too much of a coward to look back at her. Instead, I stay laser focused out the windshield.

“Thane,” her voice softens, wrapping around me like ablanket, “you are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You always have been.”

“Yet you were the first person to assume I wanted first class just to get drunk and hit on the flight attendants.”

Her eyes fall to her hands on the wheel. She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again. For half a second, I let her drown in her discomfort before throwing her a life preserver.

“But speaking of parents—I don’t really know what our moms hope to accomplish by forcing us to drive all the way down to South Carolina,” I say, changing the subject. “In my mom’s letter, she told me we’d better be friends again by the time we get there, or she’ll make us turn right back around and make the drive home.”

“Ouch. That’s harsh. My mom just said that the twelve-hour trip should give us plenty of time to work out whatever issues we two have between us.”

A long pause hangs in the air between us.

“What exactlyarethe issues between us?” I ask.

“Nothing we can’t pretend doesn’t exist,” Sera says with a raw vulnerability in her voice. “It’s going to take longer than a twelve-hour car ride to address all of it.”

I clear my throat. “For real,” I say, faking a smile.

Deep down, I’m both grateful and disappointed that she doesn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty of “us,” though. It’s a mess and we both know it. We’ll need more time to evenacknowledgethe elephant in the room, much less address it.

I reach over and turn a new playlist on low, resigning myself to the fact that Sera will be a tougher nut to crack than I originally expected.

Small talk it is, Fina.

“Okay then, how have you been?”

She fidgets with a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her bun.

“I’ve been so good!” she begins, with a pitch of voice I know from her white-lie days. “After I got my culinary degree, I decided to learn to be a pastry chef—but you already know that. I have a good job in the city at a trendy hotel called ‘Fete,’ and I’ve been awarded for my pastries twice.”

My mind races about whether she has a boyfriend or not, but I’m too chicken to ask. As if on cue, her phone rings, and a meathead-looking guy’s contact picture pops up with the name “Bradley.” She dismisses the call without a second thought.

My chest tightens. Is it possible to hate a guy I’ve never even met? Even his name is hate-able.Bradley. Brad.Blegh. Nothing about it improves if I shorten it; it’s still annoying. I can almost picture him now: a Giga Chad with muscles for days and a cocky attitude to go with it. He probably eats veggie-only egg-white omelets and plain yogurt every morning for breakfast, along with a protein shake.

“Thane?” Sera asks, sending my train of thought crashing off the rails.

“Hmmm?” I reply, shaking my head to re-center.

“Did you hear me?”

“Uh, no. Sorry, my thoughts ran off for a minute there.”

“I was asking you what you’ve been up to. I mean, I’ve seen your Instagram, so I can kind of gather there was a lot of traveling, parties, and women hanging around.”

“Yeah, a few,” I answer with a shrug.

“Is there any more you’d like to add, or should I just fill in the blanks myself?”

“Most peopledojust fill in the blanks. So if you have as well, I wouldn’t be surprised.”