The truck jerks as she punches the gas, and I nearly fly out the back. I grab the side rail with one hand, the other flying into the air with the force, as I cling on for dear life while the truck roars down the highway.
She’s really doing it.
She’sactuallygoing to drive back to LA.
She hates driving.
She once cried while parallel parking a Prius.
We are so fucking screwed.
I reach the rear window again and wedge it open with my fingers, then slide through with a grunt, landing in the passenger seat with a thud, just in time to see us barrel into traffic. She’s driving like the road owes her something. Like if she goes fast enough, she’ll outrun the pain.
“Jesus, Clover!” I shout, grabbing the dashboard as we lurch into the next lane. “You trying to get us both killed?”
“Ihaveto go back,” she yells, hands locked on the wheel. “Ican’tleave them.”
“You don’t even know what chaos we’re driving into.”
“Idon’tcare!”
We swerve again, too fast. She overcorrects. The tires shriek, the entire truck fishtailing for a terrifying second. My hands rush to the ceiling, thinking we’re going to roll over, before she rights it again.
My heart hammers in my chest as we nearly sideswipe a compact sedan, horns blaring, middle fingers flying from inside.And I can’t even tell if I’m still breathing at this point. “Fuck, Clo, that’s a car.”
“I saw it,”she screams like a banshee, overcorrecting and swerving off the road this time.
“That’s a fucking tree!”
She steers it back onto the road, the truck bucking like a damn bronco as she glares at me as if I am the devil incarnate.“I fucking saw that too!”
“You gonna make us both see the gates of heaven next?” I mock.
“Shut up,”she screams, her voice raw. “Icando this!”
Shaking my head at this insanity, I huff. “You’re barely holding it together.”
“I k-know how to d-drive!” she snaps, but her voice shakes with sheer panic.
“Your brother’s a mechanic and a biker, why the hell can’t you do this better?”
“I’m a social media expert, not Letty, leave me alone ‘before I leave tread marks on your face,’” she screams back, overcorrecting again.
I can’t fight back my smirk at herFast and the Furiousreference. “You’re definitely not Letty, Clo. She’dneverdrive like this.”
She turns to face me, letting out a loud scream of frustration, taking her eyes off the road, and in doing so, veers onto the other side. A horn blares as we drift into oncoming traffic, and I watch in horror as a semi has to swerve. An airhorn screams as it diverges off the road, brakes screeching, gravel flying.
“Jesus, Clo, eyes front.Eyes front!”I snap, bracing for impact.
Her eyes flash with pain as she turns from me to look at the road. Her breathing is ragged. Shoulders are shaking. She’s unraveling right in front of me and using speed to hold it all inplace.
“You said I was a survivor,” she chokes out. “Let me survive.”
We veer too far again, only this time I see it too late. The curve. The edge of the road.
We’re not going to make it.
“Let go,”I roar, lunging across the cab.
