or Sam?” Jane asked, looking up from her clipboard to the teen with bright purple hair standing in front of her.
“Sam,” she replied, with a slight smile, clearly pleased that she’d been asked as opposed to assigned.
“Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m your driving instructor, Ellie.”
Sam looked approvingly at her—Jane knew her young and calm demeanor would be considered cool, especially the lip ring that sat in her lower lip.
“Sweet.”
The first hour was basic. Jane kept everything professional, the last thing she wanted to do was push. As a teen herself she’d been much like Sam—sick of people telling her what to do, against conforming to any sort of authority just because it was expected of her.
“Do you mind if I put some music on?” she asked as Sam carefully concentrated on her driving.
“Please do. Music totally relaxes me.”
Jane grinned, “Me, too.”
She flipped the radio on. Judging by the young woman’s style, Jane had a hunch of what kind of music she enjoyed. Jane was here to add some age to her lyrical palate.
Nirvana was a win/win. She watched from her peripheral, realizing Sam definitely knew the band, but only the songs that were played on the oldie stations. She could tell she never heard some of their greatest and unknown hits. Sam began to drum her fingers against the steering wheel in time.
“Do you play an instrument?” Jane asked.
“Only every one I’ve ever picked up,” she was smirking. “I would recognize Cobain’s voice anywhere, but I’ve never heard this song.”
“This album is classic.”
“Is it on a CD?”
Jane nodded with a small smile, damn that made her feel old.
Sam continued to listen, her body becoming more relaxed. Jane could see the tightness in her shoulders loosening. Jane resisted asking her any more questions. She would let Samantha come to her. After another 20 minutes, the teen asked the question Jane was hoping she would.
“Do you mind if I borrow this?” she asked, indicating the music.
“Not at all, I’ve got a whole stack of burned CDs like this in my car.”
Sam’s eyes lit up with interest. “Really?”
“Yeah, I was actually trying to get rid of them. I moved all my music onto a laptop, so if you want them, they’re yours.”
“No fucking way!” she yelled, realizing almost instantly that she might have overstepped herself.
“Fucking way,” Jane responded.
Sam laughed, tossing her long tresses back as she pulled past Stone & Schworst Law Firm.
“Do you smoke weed?”
“Sometimes, but lately I’ve been really busy with a new project so there hasn’t been a lot of time for recreation.”
Sam nodded in understanding. “Still, it’s really cool that you do.”
“I used to be a lot cooler.”
“No way.”
“Yeah, back when it was my sister and I, hell we got in so much trouble together.”
“What was the craziest thing you ever did?”
Jane gave Sam a sneaky sideways glance, “When I was seventeen, there was one summer she stole a car. We drove around drinking whiskey sours until she crashed the thing into a motel swimming pool.”
“That’s insane! Did you get in trouble?”
“We ran. The car wasn’t ours, so they never found us. We laughed about it for weeks.”
“That is so badass. You’re so lucky to have a sibling like that.”
Jane felt the warm memory fade, the small smile playing about her lips gasped on its last breath. “I did. Unfortunately I don’t anymore.”
“I’m sorry.” Sam couldn’t seem to help herself, “Did she die?” The voice in which she asked somehow lessened the pain of the answer Jane hated to relive.
“Yeah. Seven years ago.”
“That fucking sucks.”
“It does.”
Sam fell silent, and Jane didn’t comment again. The lack of words unspoken was comfortable. Samantha seemed to recognize a kindred spirit—after all, they both came from broken homes.
“Being an only child sucks, too,” she finally said. “Being a stepdaughter is even worse.”
Jane’s heart lifted at these words. It felt as if someone else in the Universe was seeing with the same eyes as herself.
“Is he an asshole?”
“Worse,” Sam spat viciously. “He’s perfect.”
Jane contemplated those words—perhaps Samantha might not even realize why Dave bothered her so much. It could be she was picking up on unconscious feelings that the man evoked.
“Well, we all know that’s worse than being an asshole.”
“Exactly.”
They fell into small talk for the remainder of the lesson. Jane hadn’t thought it possible, but she gained this woman’s trust in just under three hours. That was a new record.
“Great job,” Jane encouraged as Samantha pulled into the parking spot and tossed the car out of drive.
“Thanks, same time tomorrow?” Her face lit up, hopeful that this arrangement would be permanent.
“That’s right.”
“Cool.” She looked genuinely pleased with this information. Jane knew the look—she had been banking on it. Sam admired her.
She’d make sure to spend the next few weeks becoming the older sister Sam never even knew she needed.