White is for Virgins (51 page)

“I’ve noticed,” I said, smiling knowingly at her. She actually blushed.

“We have decided that it’s time for you to get a car,” she said.

“Oh?” That caught my interest. My fingers went from the keyboard to my lap as I turned in my chair to face her completely.

“You’re going off to college soon, and we need to make sure you’re fully prepared.”

I pondered this. I’d had my permit since I was 16, but because of our moves and the money shortages and the fact that it wasn’t mandatory to obtain my license, I held off on completing the process.

“To get you a car,” she continued, and I held my breath at her wary tone, “we’re considering a move.”

“What?” My voice came out harsh. I was caught off guard with that last statement. “But we just moved here.”

“Baby we need to seriously cut back with you moving out on your own. We want to be able to fully support you and help you with whatever you need.” She looked hopeful, but a little sad. I could tell she had been looking to stay in this house permanently, just as I was.

“I don’t even know what to say right now.” I was expressionless.

“All we need is a kitchen, a bathroom, a place to sleep, and access to electricity,” she said in a light tone. “All your father needs is a TV,” she smirked. She offered me a smile, hoping I would take to the possibility and smile back.

I did.

“Alright, so I scheduled a road test for you on the thirtieth,” she said, “You should do fine.”

My jaw almost dropped. “Mom! You do realize I haven’t been behind the wheel of a car in over a year, right?”

“Honey, you use to do fine with your permit. Twelve minutes of keeping your hands on the wheel and following all the rules of the road – you’ll pass, piece of cake.”

“But Mom–”

“Why don’t you ask your attractive friend to help you prepare,” she said, cutting me off in anticipation of my protests.

That suggestion appealed to me; my heart certainly seemed excited at the thought.

“The thirtieth, you said?” I confirmed, biting my lip to hide my smile while my mom beamed at me.

“Yes, and good luck,” she said and winked at me before leaving.

“Oh God,” I sighed, returning to my essay, “Was that comment in regards to the driving? Or the boy?”

I then realized I had to ask him to help me out…

Shit. He was going to eat that up.

***

“Hey, Fox,” I sang sweetly, batting my eyelashes in creative writing before the bell rang for class.

“Uh oh,” he muttered, crossing his arms on the desk and leaning forward with a raised brow.

“‘Uh oh’ what?”

“When a girl blinks repeatedly and sings my name the way you just did she either wants something or…” he paused and smirked, “
nevermind.”

“Or?”

“Don’t worry about it; the latter would not be possible in this case.”

My cheeks colored. “
Eww, Fox, c’mon.”

“What do you want?” he smiled.

“Oh, you really do know women,” I chuckled. “Um, I need a really large favor.”

“How large?”

“Like, prepare me for an upcoming road test large,” I murmured quickly, squinting as I judged how he would take the question.

“Large is understatement then,” he smirked, “I’ve never even seen you drive.”

“That’s ‘cause I haven’t in like two years.”

“How long before your test?”

“Eight days.”

“Normal people prepare for these types of situations a little better.” He grinned and shook his head as Mrs. Sawyer strutted into the room and we all fell silent.

“Well I think we can both agree I’m not ‘normal people’,” I whispered over my shoulder.

“That’s for sure,” he replied. “You never stop surprising me.”

I resisted the urge to take that in a good way and grin like an idiot. I awaited his answer.

He threw a paper ball at my desk. It rolled down the surface and into my lap. I unfolded it as quietly as I could with my eyes facing forward at the notes being written on the board. I quickly glanced down at the paper.

We start after school.

You owe me.

And the nerves set in.

***

The first thing I did behind the wheel of Fox’s very expensive, very luxurious car was buckle my seat belt, adjust the mirrors, and adjust my seat (not necessarily in that order).

“Don’t get too close to the wheel, shorty,” he smirked.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Alright, now start the engine, and put it in reverse.” He seemed totally good with all of this. “Keep your foot on the brake,” he cautioned. I remembered all of these procedures. It was the actual driving I had lost the feel of.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, turning over to him. “I mean, your car’s wicked nice… like, probably worth-more-than-my-house nice. I will never forgive myself if I hit something or someone with it.”

“Or someone?” he questioned.

“Oh my God… I can’t do this.”

“Emery, I hate this car. Obviously I want you to be careful and in an ideal situation you’d drive it without hitting anything …or anyone. But I won’t hate you if you make a mistake. Just do as I say; you’ll be fine. You’re always fine, with everything.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. Anxiously, I put the car in reverse and eased my foot off the brake as I looked all around me in search of moving objects.

“All clear?” he asked, looking around as well.

“Yup.”

“Okay, now slowly turn the wheel.”

I did so with one hand. It was surprisingly easy.

“
Woah, woah, woah,” he said, causing me to abruptly slam on the brake. The car jerked at the sudden change in motion and I winced.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, observing how I’d backed out. I knew I hadn’t hit anything. It seemed fine.

“You used one hand.”

“You use one hand all the time…”

“I already passed the test. Does the phrase ‘ten and two’ ring a bell, Em?” he asked.

“Oh God, that rule’s still in effect?” I muttered, rolling my eyes and setting the car in drive before placing both hands securely on the wheel.

“To pass the test, you keep both hands on the wheel, ma’am,” he said professionally. He then proceeded to guide me out of the school parking lot and onto the main road. I was nervous, to say the least, but he kept urging me on and I felt less and less insecure behind the wheel.

“Because everyone drives at least ten over the speed limit, you’re
gonna freak with everyone that’s gonna be tailgating us,” he smirked, “but you have to follow all the posted rules for the test.”

“Makes sense,” I sighed, easing my foot off the gas when I noticed I was fifteen over the limit.

“I’d never have guessed you were a speeder,” he laughed, “Little straight-A Emery Price, a future road rage course-taker.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Hey, as your instructor and the owner of this very nice car,” he said mock-haughtily, “I suggest you watch your attitude for the next eight days, ma’am.”

“My apologies, sir,” I mocked back with fake sincerity.

“That’s more like it. Now, signal left and stop before the line. Wait for it to be clear,” he said, making sure I wasn’t bluffing when I said it was okay to go.

We eventually got to the center with a few mistakes here and there.

“Not bad, Em,” he said when I parked the car.

“Not bad..? Really?”

“For a girl,” he added with a small, teasing grin.

“Oh, really?”

He made a run for the doors and I chased after him. The track star obviously reached safety behind the front desk long before I caught up to him.

“You two are late,” Nina commented, waddling over to us with a curious look on her face.

“Emery drove,” Fox complained with an exaggerated tone.

I smacked him upside the head, making Nina giggle.

“So um, Nina, how’s the center been? Anybody of interest show up recently?” I asked, though not as subtly as I could have.

She gave me a weird look and shook her head.

Fox excused himself to make a few quick calls when she walked away. I started on some Calculus homework.

“Get this,” he said ten minutes later, “I can’t find him.”

“What? The amazing Fox Evans, who knows people that know people, can’t find Carlos?”

He rolled his eyes. “Seriously. He’s gone.”

“Gone? Like,
dead
gone?
Left the country
gone? What?”

“Like
quit his job, got a different phone number, and moved
gone.”

“Shit.”