Win Some, Lose Some

“I seriously doubt you could affect the resale value by getting the leather seat wet,” she said. “Besides, this is a hand-me-down from my uncle. He found it at a car auction.”

“I’m sorry,” I said anyway.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Really. It will wipe right off.”

I looked down at my hands in my lap and watched her out of the corner of my eye. It occurred to me that I had no idea what kind of a driver she was, and I inhaled sharply, feeling my breath catch in my throat. I wanted to close my eyes, but I had to keep them on her to make sure she didn’t make any mistakes.

She was watching me closely, and her forehead was creased a little. She gave me a tight-lipped smile, then put the car into first and looked over her shoulder for other cars. She glanced at me once more and then pulled out slowly. She went the exact speed limit and kept her eyes on the road. Air filled my lungs again, and I felt myself relax a little.

“Where do you live?” Mayra asked softly. She didn’t look over at me, and I was grateful she was concentrating on what she was doing.

“Acorn Circle,” I told her. “At the end of Arrowhead.”

“Oh, okay! That’s over by Aimee’s, right?”

“Yes,” I said. “She lives six houses down and across the street.”

Shit, shit, shit.

I became increasingly aware that I was in a vintage vehicle with the beautiful and popular Mayra Trevino, and I was about as ill-prepared to talk to her as I was to give her a gynecological exam.

In addition, I needed to learn when to shut the fuck up, even when I was only talking to myself. The images of Mayra getting a pap smear that suddenly filled my head nearly caused me to open the door and fling myself onto the pavement. My heart pounded in my chest, and my vision became blurry. I squeezed my thighs with my hands, trying to stop myself from shaking.

Don’t do this…don’t do this…not in front of her…please…

I was vaguely aware that the car had stopped, and Mayra was saying my name over and over. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could do the same with my ears. My body jumped uncontrollably when her hand touched my shoulder, and she said the only thing that could have caused me to answer her.

“Should I call 911?” Her voice was panicked.

“No!” I squeaked. “No…don’t! I just need to get home.”

“We’re here,” she said quietly.

I yanked at the door handle, which wouldn’t budge the door. A strange sound came out of my throat when I yanked again and realized I was trapped. Before Mayra exited the car, I heard her tell me she would open the door, and she ran around to the other side. She opened the door, and I practically fell out on top of her.

Then I ran.

I ran straight for the front door, opened it, and slammed it behind me. I dropped down onto my ass just inside and leaned against it. I could hear her outside, yelling at me.

“Matthew! Matthew! Are you okay? Matthew, please open the door! I want to know you are all right!”

I ignored her. I closed my eyes, pulled into myself, and calculated pi.

“Matthew! Matthew, my dad is working from home today! I’ll call him, and he’ll break the door down!”

I wasn’t falling for that. He would have no legal right to enter my house without the police and a search warrant. There was no just cause. She continued to call out pointless threats, and I went through the engine specifications of an Audi R8.

Finally, there was silence outside.

A moment later, there was knocking again.

“Matthew?” she called through the wooden door. “Matthew—I have your book bag.”

Shit, shit, shit.

I’d left it in the car.

“You can’t do your homework without it, so you’re going to have to let me in.”