I’m sitting in Derek’s convertible with the top down as Grace slams the car through a series of shifts that make the engine roar.
“This doesn’t suck, huh?” she says.
“Not at all,” I say.
I have to shout to be heard over the wind.
“Maybe you should slow down a little,” I say.
I think how Mom would freak out if she was in a car going this fast. Especially a convertible. What happens if you flip over in a convertible? There’s nothing there to protect your head. Anything could happen.
“I’m serious. Slow down,” I say.
“Relax,” Grace says. “I’ve been driving since I was twelve. My grandfather used to let me drive his Honda in the church parking lot on Sundays. And he learned in the Philippines where they have no traffic rules.”
She winks at me, but I don’t find it funny.
“You’re really scared, aren’t you?” she says, and she slows down a little.
“Not scared,” I say.
“It’s okay,” she says. “We should keep it under the speed limit anyway.”
She eases back on the gas and I relax, even putting my hand outside of the car so I can feel the air buffeting my fingers.
“I’ve been wondering about something,” Grace says. “Why did you talk to me that first time?”
“I felt bad for you.”
“But why? You didn’t even know me.”
“You were crying. I guess it reminded me of someone.”
“Your girlfriend?” Grace says.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“What about that actor?”
“What about her?” I say.
Grace slams gears and my head jerks back.
“Sorry about that,” she says.
She pulls a hard U-turn into the gas station.
“Who did I remind you of?” she says.
“My mom.”
“Oh,” she says.
She looks straight ahead.
“Is it because I’m fat?” she says.
“My mom is thin,” I say. “And so are you.”
“I’m techie thin. Not actor thin.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Fifteen pounds.”
“I like how you look, Grace.”
I study Grace in the late-afternoon light. Her skin is the color of roasted almonds. I think about how I would light her if she were onstage. With Summer, you have to add color because she’s so pale. With Grace, I would highlight the color that’s already there.
At the gas station we wait for a truck to finish so we can pull up to the pump.
“That actress is much thinner than me,” Grace says.
“That actress doesn’t even know my name,” I say.
“Do you want her to?”
“I guess so. Why not?”
“The techie rules. You’re the one who told me about them.”
“I’m starting to wonder if they’re techie rules or Reach’s rules.”
“Either way you’d be breaking them.”
“That’s true,” I say. “And I’m not much of a rule breaker. Despite what you think.”
“Love makes you do crazy things,” she says. “I know better than anyone.”
She pulls up to the pump and kills the engine.
“You know what? I’m not sure that girl deserves to know your name. Maybe you’re too good for her.”
“Maybe you’re too good for Derek,” I say.
She grins, flips hair from her eyes.
“Do you think so?” she says.
I nod.
“Thanks, Adam,” she says.
“Let’s gas this thing up and dump it back at school.”
“Deal,” she says.
Ten minutes later, we pull into the school parking lot. As we drive in, I glance in the side mirror and see a flash of someone coming out the back door of the school.
“Here comes Derek!” I say.
Grace pulls behind a truck and jams the car into park.
“Switch with me!” she says.
She unbuckles and jumps up on the seat.
She slides over the gearshift as I struggle to unhook my leg from under her. She turns to let me get by, and the side of her breast brushes my face.
“Awkward,” she says.
“Super awkward,” I say.
I scurry over the gearshift and plop into the driver’s seat, both of us laughing like crazy as Derek walks up.
“Why did you park all the way back—” Derek says.
He stops when he sees Grace.
“Why is she in my car?” he says.
Grace starts to say something, but I interrupt her.
“I made her come with me,” I say.
“Why?” Derek says.
“I’ve got a learner’s permit. I need an adult with me.”
“She’s not an adult,” Derek says.
“Cops don’t know that,” I say. “They just see two people in the car.”
Grace starts giggling. I give her an elbow in the ribs.
Derek looks at us. “What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing,” I say.
“I just love your beamer,” Grace says, taunting him.
“We all love the beamer,” I say, trying to sound authentic.
Derek steps back and crosses his arms.
“Something’s different about you,” he says to Grace.
Grace stops laughing.
“Different how?” she says.
“Did you get your hair cut?”
Her hand jumps to her hair, smoothing it down in back.
“Yes,” she says.
“It looks good,” Derek says. He smiles.
Grace turns red. “Thank you,” she says.
Derek looks back at me. “I appreciate you taking care of my baby,” he says.
The way he says it, I can’t be sure if he’s talking about the car or Grace. I sense her squirming in the seat next to me.
I hop out and pass Derek the keys.
“Twelve gallons of super. On me,” I say.
“I won’t hear of it,” Derek says. He pulls out a wad of bills and peels off two twenties. “You don’t have to pay for me. I just wanted to see how serious your commitment to the team was.”
“Serious,” I say.
“You’re an interesting chap,” Derek says. “More interesting every time I speak with you.”
He starts to walk away, then stops.
“Have you ever worked a follow spot?” he says.
“I have,” I say.
“I hoped you would say that.”
He winks at me, throws Grace a brief smile, and heads back towards school.
He makes it about ten feet when he holds the key fob over his head and presses. The car lets out a loud honk that makes Grace and me jump.
Derek waves without turning and disappears into the school.
“What the hell just happened?” I say.
“Derek happened,” Grace says.