Page 3 of Just Keep Driving

“How bad was your date tonight? You have that look.”

She sighs, letting her shoulders droop. “Pretty damn bad.”

“Like, I need a break from dating for a bit bad, or what’s a few cats and learning how to crochet about bad?”

She chuckles. “I did consider having you take me to the animal shelter.”

I turn on my blinker and make a right turn at the intersection.

“What happened?” I look back at her.

“I don’t know where to start. He smelled like mildew.”

“Oh no! Strikes one and two. You gotta come correct when it comes to how you smell. Not my guy smelling like he left the clean clothes in the washer for two days.”

She snaps. “That’s the exact smell. You know you gotta wash them again, sometimes twice.”

I shake my head. “Homie put them straight in the dryer and carried on with life.”

“His mom probably put them in the dryer.”

“Oh no, no, no. Don’t tell me he lives with his mom.”

“It’s worse than that.”

“How can it be worse?” The only thing worse would be sharing a room with her.

“He lives in her basement.”

“Damn, the man is a living, breathing cliche. Did he say females too?” I ask coming up on a red light. I turn to face her.

“He did!” She throws her head back and howls with laughter. “He absolutely did.”

“Baby girl, is that when you left?”

Her smile fades. “Nope.”

“We’re going to have to talk about your reasoning skills, Lydea.”

She opens her mouth to rebut, but the horn honking behind us lets me know the light has turned green.

“My bad,” I mutter.

“You’re good.”

I try not to talk too much during my rides, so I focus on the road.

“How many rides do you do a day?”

“Not too many. I only do rideshares in the evenings and on the weekend. I’m saving for–”

“Please don’t say your own place,” she groans.

I laugh. “No. I got my own place. I’m a barber. I’m trying to buy my own spot.”

I see her flash a tiny smile in the mirror.

“That’s responsible.”