Chapter 6
Cara Samuel:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
Doing anything fun to celebrate?
Jeremiah James:
Does being terrorized by everyone I know count?
Cara Samuel:
What happened?
Jeremiah James:
My morning started off with Alec and Xander glitter bombing me when I got out of the shower. Oliver baked me a cake and frosted it with shaving cream. And then our road crew gift wrapped my entire hotel room
Everything from the furniture down to my toothbrush
Cara Samuel:
Stop
That’s honestly hilarious
Jeremiah James:
It was funny until I tried to pee
How’d you know it was my birthday anyway?
Cara Samuel:
This is a weird conversation to be having, but you know I’m a fan, right?
Jeremiah James:
Stella might have mentioned that before
Guess I never really thought about it though
What else do you know about me?
Cara Samuel:
Do you really want me to answer that?
Jeremiah James:
Probably not…
What’s my favorite color?
Cara Samuel:
That’s child’s play
Jeremiah James:
Well?
Cara Samuel:
Green
Jeremiah James:
Okay
Favorite food?
Cara Samuel:
Chili fries with nacho cheese sauce and jalapenos
Because apparently, you’re a glutton for nasty toilet punishment
Jeremiah James:
Movie?
Cara Samuel:
A tie between Caddyshack and Anchorman
Jeremiah James:
Book? Sport? Animal?
Cara Samuel:
You’ve said in interviews that it’s Les Misérables, but Stella says you obsessively read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
You love playing football but prefer watching hockey
Eagles are your favorite animal, but if they were real, then it’d be a griffin
Which is why you have one tattooed on your left calf
Jeremiah James:
I don’t know if I’m terrified or in love
Cara Samuel:
Give me a challenge
Jeremiah James:
Favorite British punk rock album from the 70s?
Cara Samuel:
Tell Us the Truth by Sham 69
But your favorite song of theirs is Angels with Dirty Faces off That’s Life
Jeremiah James:
Jesus Christ, woman. It’s like you can see into my soul
Cara Samuel:
The internet is a scary but magical place
Jeremiah James:
All right. Enough about me. I’m feeling way too seen
Did you get your temps yet?
Cara Samuel:
Not yet but I finished my online driver’s ed course last night
Scheduled my written test for the 9th, so I have two weeks to study
Wish me luck!
Jeremiah James:
Nah. You don’t need it
Cara Samuel:
Why’s that?
Jeremiah James:
If you can remember all that about me, you can damn well memorize a few road rules
* * *
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I said as the Driver and Vehicle Services came into view.
“Not in my dad’s new truck, you’re not,” Trixy replied in a threatening tone. Despite putting me on friendship probation, she’d offered to give me a ride when I let slip I’d be taking the bus. “Stop being a drama queen. It’s just the written test.”
“I know,” I said as she sped into the parking lot, not bothering to use her blinker, “but there are so many different rules, signs, and traffic signals to remember. I’m afraid I’m going to get everything mixed up.”
“You spent all of February preparing for this test.” Trixy whipped into the handicap spot in front of the main entrance, put the truck in park, and turned to face me. “You’ll do fine.”
“But what if I don’t?” I asked in a quiet voice. “What if I fail?”
Trixy nudged her aviators down half an inch so she could give me a look over the rim of her sunglasses. “Then your name will be added to a list of persons who are banned from operating motorized vehicles for all eternity. You’ll be doomed to beg me for rides forever.”
“That’s not funny!”
“Cara,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “If you fail, we’ll raid my dad’s liquor cabinet, and you can spend the night drowning your sorrows. But after that, you’ll put on your big girl pants, study your ass off, and retake the damn test.”
“Do you think you could make me a tequila sunrise?” I asked, peeking over at her.
“That’s an oddly specific request, but sure.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling slightly less nauseous.
“No problem.” She shrugged off her leather jacket, revealing the bedazzled Harley-Davidson T-shirt underneath. “Now get out of here and go crush that test. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
I clambered out of the truck and slammed the door. After wiping my sweaty palms on the back of my jeans, I strode toward the building with as much confidence as I could muster.
The inside of the DVS was dull. Faded white walls, gray carpet, rows and rows of plastic chairs.
The people sitting in the chairs all wore bored expressions on their faces.
Directly ahead of me were two stanchions stretching toward the front desk, in between which a line of people had formed. I joined the end.
Despite Trixy’s pep talk, another dose of nerves trickled through my veins.
Sitting at the desk was a stern, middle-aged woman who looked like she’d never laughed a day of her life.
Would she think it was suspicious that I was almost twenty years old and still didn’t have my temps?
What if she grilled me about why I’d waited so long to get it?
I knew I was being ridiculous. There were probably tons of people who didn’t start driving until they were adults, but getting a license felt like such a quintessential part of being a teenager.
Stella and Drew both got their temps when we turned fifteen and passed their driver’s test at sixteen, but I hadn’t done either.
I’d been too sick at the time. It hit me then that this was just another life experience that cancer ruined for me.
I should have been here years ago with my siblings, excited to finally get behind the wheel.
Now I was here all alone, feeling like an idiot.
“Next!”
I jerked my head up and realized that while I’d been lost in thought, the line had whittled down to just me.
“How can I help you?” the woman asked in a monotone voice as I stepped up to the plexiglass. She didn’t even glance at me.
“Um, I’m here to take my permit test.”
“Did you sign up online?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Name?”
“Cara Samuel.”
She typed this into the computer and scanned the screen. “Did you bring your Social Security card and a second document that proves your identity?”
“Yeah.” I slid the little blue card and my birth certificate across the counter.
The woman made copies of both before pushing them back to me.
She typed something else into her computer.
Then, still not looking at me, she said, “To your left is a row of computers. I have you set up at the one in the middle. You can start whenever you’re ready.
Once you begin, you’ll have one hour to complete the test. Good luck. ”
“That’s it?” I asked, confused. Didn’t she need to know more about me?
“That’s it,” she responded, sounding bored. “Next!
Two hours later, I stepped out into the early afternoon sunshine, a smile on my face and a temporary license clutched in my hand. The test had been tricky, but I only missed two questions. Afterward, I did an eye test, got my picture taken, and signed up for behind-the-wheel instruction.
“I take it congratulations are in order?” Trixy said as I climbed back into the truck.
“Heck yes!” I replied, doing a little celebratory dance.
“What’d I tell you?” she replied, sliding her sunglasses back on and jabbing the push-start ignition. “You still want that drink?”
“Actually, let’s go to my house.” It was only ten minutes to my parents’ subdivision but a half-hour trip out to Trixy’s place. “Hey, can I drive?”
She laughed and threw the truck into reverse. “Not a chance in hell.”
* * *
We got back from the DVS in just enough time to catch my mom on her lunch break. When I walked into the kitchen, a giddy smile still plastered on my face, she was sitting at the table, a paperback in her hand and a half-eaten sandwich in front of her.
She glanced up from the page so briefly, she didn’t even notice Trixy standing behind me. “Hi, honey. Why do you look so happy?”
“Because I just got this.” I held out my temps for her to see.
Mom’s eyes turned to saucers, and she set the book down. “Cara, that’s amazing! I didn’t even know you wanted to get your license.”
“Well,” I said with a little shrug, “I figured you and Dad have been my chauffeurs long enough.”
“Hey, Mrs. Samuels,” Trixy chimed in, stepping forward with a small wave. “Long time no see.”
If Mom was excited about my news, then she was ecstatic to see my best friend. “Beatrice!” she exclaimed, jumping up and pulling her into a hug. “It’s been way too long. How have you been? I love the hair!”
“It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Samuel.” Despite her rebel appearance and take-no-crap attitude, Trixy was great with parents. “I’ve been good. I’m getting my business degree online through Minnesota and helping my dad run the Blue Groove.”
After retiring from racing, Mr. Moore—Jimmy, as he insisted everyone call him—bought a restaurant across the street from a local motocross track and revamped it with his fellow dirt bikers in mind.
I’d spent many an hour tucked into one of the high-backed booths playing board games with Trixy’s family after closing.
“Good,” Mom said, smiling at Trixy as if she was a long-lost daughter. “I’m glad to see that the two of you made up. It’s a lot quieter around here without you.”
* * *
JJ called me two weeks later.
It was nearly one o’clock in the morning, but I was still awake, curled up in bed with my laptop watching some stupid action series Drew had recommended.
My heart froze for a split second when his name flashed across the screen before my pulse erupted into a rapid staccato.
It still felt surreal that a member of the Heartbreakers had given me his number.
“Would you rather fight one thousand ant-size bulls or one bull-size ant?” he asked as soon as the line connected.
I pushed myself into a sitting position, surprised by the question. “Um, a thousand ant-size bulls?” The thought of a ginormous ant towering over me, its mandibles snapping menacingly, sent a shiver down my spine.
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. “How’d your test go?”