Montana alone.
Banks mans the wheel and chews on a toothpick, while Akara messes with the air vents in the passenger seat. They’re broken…again. The Jeep is old, and normally, I’d just roll down the windows, but paparazzi are still trailing us.
I’m used to the muggy, too-warm feeling from winters at indoor heated pools, but Banks and Akara are noticeably sweating.
“Hey, Kits,” I call up to him. “I swear if you rub the dashboard and whisper to the vent, you’re not a piece of crap, three times, cool air will come out.”
Akara glances back. “You’re fucking with me?”
Banks nearly smiles. “Sounds legit to me.”
“It’s worked almost every time,” I assure.
“I’ve been with you almost every time and I’ve never seen you do that,” Akara refutes.
“It was in private,” I say. “She’s shy.”
“What’d you name her?” Banks asks me. It’s not the first time we’ve all ridden in the Jeep together, but lately, she hasn’t had as much attention as family gossip.
“Wait for it,” Akara tells Banks with a wiseass smile. Kits was there when my sister and I coined the nickname. Plus, he’s heard me use it.
“I named her Booger—said in love,” I add quickly while they both break into laughter at my green Booger Baby.
I find the nearest thing to throw, a pair of old dirty hiking socks and I chuck one at Banks and one at Akara.
They laugh more.
“She’s going to break down if you keep making fun of her,” I point out.
Banks strokes the wheel. “I’ll fix her real good.” He’s touching Booger more than he’s ever touched me. The thought sinks my stomach.
Fuck that—my car is not more attractive than me. But Booger is hot old metal.
Akara scoots closer to the vent. “You’re not a piece of crap.” He rubs the dashboard, trying to cage laughter. “You’re not a piece of crap. You’re not a piece of crap.”
We wait in silence.
And then cold air blows out.
I smile. “Told you. She just needs some reassuring.” I’m about to return to my climbing research, but Akara looks disturbed.
“How did that happen?” he asks Banks, probably since Banks is a skilled mechanic and understands cars.
Banks lifts a shoulder. “Maybe somethin’ to do with you putting pressure on the dash.” He makes a face at himself though like that’s bullshit. “Or God.”
Akara leans back. “I don’t like fucking with the dead.”
Because the Jeep belonged to someone who passed away.
“Amen,” Banks says.
I edge toward the middle console. “You’re both overreacting. The spirit of Adam Sully doesn’t live within this car. He’s in the fucking sky and in peace, so you both can stop freaking out.”
I’m actually pretty superstitious, so their uneasiness is making me uneasy. And I love this green Booger too much. If anything, the spirit of my dad’s best friend would only want to protect me.
Banks is driving casually. “I’m not freaking out.”
Akara nods, but he’s busy texting.
What if he’s texting Jenny? I could just ask…as a friend to a friend. Staying close to the middle console between their seats, I say, “So how’d you leave things with Jenny?”
Akara rotates slightly, his deep brown eyes locking onto mine. “Why do you want to know?”
I accidentally glance at the phone.
He already puts two and two together. “I’m not texting Jenny.”
“I just wanted to know if I should expect to see her around. I mean, it’s okay if I do—”
“You won’t,” he says quickly. “She’s not a girlfriend.”
My stomach flip-flops. Not sure exactly what I feel, I just say the truth, “I’m glad that you’re finding time for yourself, Kits.” I lean more towards Banks and tap the back of his headrest. “Banks, I hope you’re finding time to get laid too.”
That seemed casual, right?
The car sobers though. No laughter, no grinning. A strange tension winds through the Jeep. Should I call this part of my life: The Death of All Friendships?
I draw further back.
Banks moves his toothpick with his teeth. “I’m doin’ alright.” He glances in the rearview at me. “Out of the three of us, you’re the one we should probably be concerned about.”
I pull my knee up to my chest. “Because I’m a virgin?”
“Because of what you told me and Akara. That you’d want to lose your virginity to one of us.”
My chest collapses in shock, and my smile flickers in and out because I’m thinking, fuck yes! We’re finally talking about the funhouse! And then oh my fucking God, we’re about to talk about the funhouse.
But Akara suddenly slides Banks a harsh look. I’ve found the tight-lipped one