Chapter 11
Desperately, I looked toward Jake. From the driver's seat, he reached a hand, palm-up, toward the back seat. "Shirt," he said.
From the back seat, Trey went through the same motions as before, pulling a shirt from who-knows-where and snipping off the tags. But this time, when Trey dropped the shirt into Jake's hand¸ Jake handed the shirt out toward me.
I looked at it. "What's that?" I asked.
"A new shirt." He glanced down at my blouse. "Go ahead. Put it on. Then pull yours off underneath."
"Here?" I glanced around. "In the car?"
"Don't worry," Jake said. "We won't look." His voice took on a note of warning. "Right, Trey?"
"I guess not," Trey muttered.
I glanced at the shirt Jake was wearing. It was tattered, bloody, and maybe a little bit soggy. Probably from the wipers. "What about you?" I asked. "Wait. Lemme guess. You've got a dozen more shirts in the back? Am I right?"
From behind me, Trey said, "Nope. That's the last one. Funny too, because two's normally enough."
"Normally?" I said.
Jake thrust the shirt in my direction. "Just take it," he said.
Reluctantly, I took the shirt. I glanced out the car window. The crowd was still there. So were their phones. The last thing I wanted was to become famous for a wardrobe malfunction on a public street. As if reading my thoughts, Jake cranked the engine and hit the accelerator. We roared away, circling back to the main thoroughfare.
As Jake navigated the city traffic, I struggled into the shirt. It wasn't quite as easy as Jake made it sound, but it wasn't half as difficult as I anticipated. On my own smaller body, his shirt was huge, giving me lots of room to tug off my blouse and drop it onto the floor-mat beside my feet.
I heard movement in the back seat and turned to see Trey pull out that same notebook computer. He flipped it open and reached for that same set of headphones.
I returned my gaze to the road and tried not to think about the mess I was in.
Soon, I heard a chuckle from the rear of the car.
Beside me, Jake spoke over his shoulder. "How is it?" he asked.
"You're gonna love it," Trey said.
I turned around. "What is it?"
"I'll show you when it's done," Trey said.
I turned to Jake. "Does this have anything to do with what just happened?"
Jake grinned. "Maybe."
"I don't get it." I squinted over at him. "And why did that officer want your autograph?"
From the back seat, Trey said, "Oh come on. Like you don't know."
I whirled around. "Idon'tknow."
His eyebrows furrowed. "Seriously?"
"Do Ilooklike I’m joking?" I said.
He gave my face a good, long look. Then he turned to Jake. "She's messing with me, right?"
Jake, navigating the city streets, didn't turn around. A smile played across his amused face. "Yup."
