Page 17 of Shut Up and Drive

“Will you do them for me just this once? I’m in my PJs!” I asked, my voice carrying the tension my body was feeling.

“Nope. I still need to shower.”

“Come on, Bash. I do yours all the time! Please?” I begged.

“There is no way I’m going to smell like sweat and stinky shoes. Bailey Jackson is coming tonight, and I heard from a few people at school that she has a crush on me,” he said, his stupid face grinning from ear to ear.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Bash interrupted me.

“Tick-tock, Sera. If you keep arguing with me in the hallway, I’ll be indisposed in the shower when people arrive, andyou’llhave the pleasure of welcoming our guests—looking like that.” His eyes looked me over and he snickered.

“Fine,” I huffed, grabbing my phone and earbuds.

As I stomped past him on the stairs, he punched my arm and said, “Good luck. Mom made pancakes, and there’s a ton of things to hand wash.”

I ran to the kitchen, popped my headphones in, and turned on my nineties pop playlist. I frantically filled the sinkwith hot, soapy water and the dishwasher with everything it could hold. Every few seconds I glanced out the window toward the driveway to see if anyone had arrived, then breathed a sigh of relief when no one had. The chorus of the Goo Goo Dolls’Irisreally sucked me in, and by the second verse I was singing at the top of my lungs.

That was my first mistake.

My second was leaving the back door unlocked.

Just as I was really taking the song home, Thane crept up behind me and joined in on the harmonies. I screamed, whipped around, and before I could come to my senses, I stabbed him firmly in the hand with the fork I was holding.

I gasped when his scream matched my own. Where our voices had been harmonizing in song one second, they were harmonizing in terror the next. When I came to my senses about what I had done, I yanked the fork out from his flesh and dropped it onto the floor.

Thane’s eyes grew wide. “You stabbed me!” he yelled.

“You scared me!” I yelled back.

“So you have free will to juststabme, then?”

“I didn’t mean to! I had no idea you were there, and I acted on instinct. I’m so sorry!” I reached for his wounded hand. “Here, let me see it.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” He held it to his chest protectively. “You’re not coming within an inch of it.”

I shot him a look that could kill. He hesitated for a moment and then surrendered when blood filled the wound and spilled over onto the floor.

“Fine. But only because I need a bandage. Your mom will kill me if I get blood on her couches downstairs.”

Downstairs.Everyone would be arriving any minute,and I still had a few pans left to wash. I glanced around and did the only thing I could think to do—besides stab the cute neighbor with flatware. I grabbed the two dirty pans from the edge of the sink, threw one in the dishwasher—which my mom would kill me for later—and shoved the other one inside the oven.

“There. That’ll have to do for now,” I said, out of breath. I wrapped a paper towel around the four tiny circles of blood between his thumb and index finger and pulled him toward my bathroom. “Now, come upstairs and I’ll bandage your hand.”

He sat down on the toilet lid and rested his hand on the counter. I set out the cotton balls, antiseptic, and bandages, then pulled off the paper towel. Thane was quiet while I worked, only wincing slightly when I cleaned it with hydrogen peroxide. I added ointment to it, then finished it up with gauze and paper tape.

He flexed and balled up his fingers, trying out his new range of motion, and stood. He walked to the door, then stopped.

“Hey, Pidge,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“You will never live this down,” he said with a laugh.

I stepped into his space and poked his chest with my finger. “If you tell anyone about this,especiallyBash, I’ll make sure the fork goes all the way through next time.”

The corner of his mouth trembled, fighting against the urge to flash that teasing grin my way.

“Is that a threat?” he teased.