Chapter 20 Hayden
CHAPTER TWENTY
hayden
MARCH, SOPHOMORE YEAR
Are you sure this is safe?” Sierra drew circles in the dirt with her boot.
I patted the hood of my dad’s old pickup. “Totally safe. I’ve been driving since I was like ten.”
She grimaced, her nose wrinkling. “I’m not sure if that makes me feel better.”
“Everyone around here drives young. Besides, we’re just going around the ranch, not on the actual highways.”
“What if we get in trouble? Or crash?”
I waved her off. “I’m not going to let that happen. And what my dad doesn’t know won’t kill him. Ask for forgiveness, not permission, right?” When she hesitated, I added, “Think of it as your first driving lesson on the road to getting your license.”
“Okay…” She drew out the word, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth.
“We’ll go slow. It’s not like we’re driving on a racetrack.” I opened the driver’s side door, gesturing for her to get in.
“I still don’t know about this, Hayden.” It looked like a storm was raging in Sierra’s mind, a raging tornado of things that could go wrong.
“Do you trust me?” I blurted.
She looked at me, eyes glazed with confusion. “Yes.”
I did my best to reassure her, knowing there were risks but choosing to ignore them anyway. We were in a safe, controlled environment, and we wouldn’t go more than half a mile away from the house. “Then we’ll be fine. Nothing bad will happen, I swear.”
“All right, then, if you say so.” She climbed into the driver’s seat, and I gently closed the door before racing around the front of the pickup to the passenger side.
“It’s not a manual, so make sure you use only one foot for the pedals. That’s super important, okay? You don’t want to end up like my cousin, who ran into her house by accident because she was using two feet and accidentally hit the gas instead of the brake.”
Sierra’s head whipped toward me, panic settling in her eyes. “Why would you tell me that?” she screeched.
“So you don’t make the same mistake she did, duh,” I teased, flashing her a grin that probably looked goofy in hopes of easing her nerves.
“Man, my family made fun of her for years after that. She never lived it down. My uncle put one of those SLOW traffic signs by their front door for a few months. Everyone called her Crash for like a year, too.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Sierra scoffed.
I nodded. “Yeah, because you’re not going to make the same mistake she did. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll keep you safe.”
I could have been wrong, but I swore I heard her mumble, “Safe.”
“Okay, first thing’s first. Seatbelts,” I said as I pulled my seatbelt across my body, clicking it into place.
Sierra put hers on, too, then reached for the key in the ignition.
“Ah-ah, not yet,” I tutted. “Now, check your mirrors, and make sure they’re adjusted so you can see. You don’t want to do that while you’re driving.” Although, I had to admit, sometimes I forgot to adjust my mirrors and did exactly that.
“I may be wrong, but I’ve definitely seen you adjust your mirrors while driving,” she quipped.
“Yeah, but I already have my license. I’m teaching you good habits.”
To my surprise, she didn’t argue further, fixing her mirrors then looking at me. “Okay, Teach, now what?”
“Now, you can start it. Then you want to put your foot on the brake and put the vehicle in drive. You’re going to slowly ease up on the brake, then move your foot over to the gas and lightly press down on it.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath as she took her foot off the brake.
We inched forward slowly, and she moved over to the gas pedal. But she gave it a little too much oomph, and we lurched forward. Just as quickly, we came to a screeching halt as she slammed down on the brakes.
My body slammed forward toward the dash, and I caught myself with my hand before my face smacked into it.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” Sierra let out a quiet cry, her hands immediately flying to cover her eyes.
I couldn’t hold back the laughter that bubbled out of my chest. In response—and honestly, rightfully so—the back of Sierra’s hand smacked into my chest.
“Don’t make fun of me!”
Her response only made me wheeze, my words failing to come out. Once I’d somewhat composed myself, I tried to reassure her. “I’m not, I promise.” I extended my pinky to her, but she just offered me a death glare, which triggered more laughing.
“It’s like a rite of passage, okay? We all do it. Next time, just don’t slam on the brakes because it makes it worse. Go again.”
She huffed. “Fine.”
That time was better, and we made it at least a few feet without Sierra panicking and jerking us back and forth with the brakes.
My eyes darted to her hands, currently white-knuckling the steering wheel. “You’re doing great. You can relax. It’s okay.”
“Don’t tell me to relax! That’s like the worst thing you could say to a girl!
” she snapped, eyes blazing with determination and a bit of stubbornness, but she still eased her grip on the steering wheel a little.
“Okay.” Pressing her foot back down on the gas, she inched forward slowly, much slower than she did before.
We crawled along the road at a snail’s pace, but I could feel her nerves melting away, replaced by a new air of confidence.
“We can go a little faster,” I whispered, careful not to seem like I was ordering her around, but we were going really slow. Maybe ten miles an hour, if that.
To my surprise, she didn’t protest, and before I knew it, we were cruising around the ranch.
“This is so much easier than I thought!” Sierra proudly proclaimed.
I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to tease her about slamming on the brakes and almost breaking my neck from whiplash.
“Take this turn, and we’ll go down to the end of the property and back,” I instructed as we approached a fork in the road.
“I didn’t realize your family had this much land.”
“Oh, yeah, this ranch is probably about two hundred acres. We have another patch of land, though, that’s much larger. Most of our cattle are out there, but we’ll move them back and forth every so often,” I explained.
“Do you think you’ll take over the ranch one day?”
I nodded confidently. “I think so. If I go to school at SGU, I probably won’t ever leave. Well, besides competing in rodeos.”
She nodded, but no words came out of her mouth.
Changing the subject to something lighter, I asked, “What’s your favorite color?” I was sure I already knew it, but it wasn’t something I’d asked her before.
“Purple,” she answered immediately. “What’s yours?”
I tapped my finger against my lips. “Well, it used to be yellow.”
Sierra turned her head toward me. “What is it now?” One brow lifted in confusion, her eyes widening in anticipation.
My gaze met hers then flicked toward my feet as heat flared in my cheeks. “Uh…green. It’s green.”
We’d been so engrossed in conversation that neither of us noticed the tree up ahead—or the fact that Sierra was veering off the road straight toward it—until it was too late.
“Oh, shit!” On instinct, and against my better judgment, I reached for the steering wheel.
Sierra’s head turned back toward the road, and she screeched as we both grabbed the wheel, jerking it to the left.
Crunch!
We came to an abrupt stop…into the tree. If we’d adjusted a couple of seconds sooner, we would have missed it, but instead, the right side of the front bumper smashed into the tree.
Luckily, we weren’t going fast enough for either of us to get injured, but an immense feeling of guilt—like a tsunami wave—crashed over me.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Sierra mumbled over and over to herself, her head buried in her hands.
I reached for her, my hand hovering over her shoulder.
Her head shot up, eyes wild and cutting into me. “You said it was safe! You said we weren’t going to crash!”
I did say both of those things.
“Are we going to get in trouble?” She gnawed on her bottom lip. “What if we get arrested? My parents will kill me!”
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, Sierra.” I tried to think of what to do. Telling my dad the truth was the obvious answer, but it wouldn’t go without consequences. Then it hit me. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I opened the passenger-side door.
“What are you doing?” Sierra raised a brow.
“Switch me spots.”
“What? Why?”
“Because, if I tell my dad I crashed, it’ll be a lot better than telling him you crashed. I at least have a driver’s license,” I explained before hopping out of the pickup to assess the damage.
Sierra unbuckled her seatbelt and got out, too, walking to the front of the pickup.
Running my hand over the hood, I reassured her. “It’s not as bad as I thought. Hardly any damage. But we should probably still have him come out and check it.”
“I’m so sorry.” She hung her head, and I stepped closer to her, lifting her chin with my finger.
“Hey, don’t worry, okay? I’ll take the fall. It’s on me for pressuring you to let me teach you how to drive in the first place.”
Sierra rolled her eyes. “I’d hardly call it pressure. And you don’t have to. I’m the one who wasn’t paying attention. You don’t have to take the blame.”
I ruffled my hair with my fingers. “Yeah, well, I went to grab the wheel, and it freaked you out. It’s all good. Maybe no more driving lessons for a while, though.” I forced out a laugh.
We both looked at each other, then the pickup and back before we burst out laughing.
“What are the odds?” Sierra snorted. “My first time driving, and I freaking crashed.”
“I won’t hold it against you,” I promised.