“Uh-huh,” Matty said.
“He’s hot for teacher,” Nana told her technician.
“I even looked up the charter for the U of A,” Larry said. “It’s not ag
ainst the rules for a teacher to get involved with—”
“Why are you like this?” I demanded.
Matty snorted. “Sweetheart, you knew what you were getting into a long time ago. You just didn’t realize it would swing your way eventually while you were gleefully meddling in the background. That’s not on us. That’s on you. It’s your time to shine.”
Ugh. That sounded terrible. “I’m leaving,” I announced grandly. “I bid you good day.”
“I drove you here in the limo I forgot to give back after Paul’s bachelor party,” Nana reminded me.
“I said good—oh. Right. Dammit. Why the hell don’t I have a car?”
“Because you won’t let us buy you one as an early graduation present,” Larry reminded me.
“I like riding the bus,” I retorted.
“No one likes riding the bus,” Matty said. “Not even the bus drivers.”
“Keys,” I demanded, holding out my hand. “I’ll drive myself.”
Nana snorted. “Like hell I’m going to let you drive my stolen limo. I’ll take you home.”
Larry frowned. “Are we letting you drive again? I thought after you hit all those mailboxes, they took your license away.”
“Run!” Nana yelled, kicking her feet out of the soaker and spraying her technician in the face.
And we did just that.
NANA SAT with her hands at ten and two and her face practically pressed against the windshield. I was all for senior independence, but when she almost sideswiped another car for the third time, I started rethinking my position.
It didn’t help that she’d somehow found a cassette tape for the Mulan soundtrack only god knew where, and felt the need to play the song “Reflection” over and over whenever I was in the limo. She thought it was a trans anthem. Bless her heart. She was very progressive that way.
“See that damn girl staring back at me,” she muttered along with the song that had been replayed six times so far. Traffic was very bad for a Friday. If I’d met Mulan right then, I’d have let her stab me.
And, because it needed to be said, I told her, “I don’t need you guys worrying about me.”
She glanced over at me as a man shook his fist out his window when she cut him off. “Fascinating.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Oh, okay. Just as long as you’re being serious.”
I huffed out a breath and slumped down farther in the cracked seat. “I’m not lonely, or whatever you’ve got in your heads. I’m happy for everyone for getting hitched or being in love or whatever. It’s not something I’m ready for. Or even looking for.”
“Sure,” she said easily. “If you say so.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’re taking this rather well.”
She shrugged. “If that’s what you say, then so shall it be.”
“Good. Well, then. Since that’s out of the way, how about we—”
“But what if?”