Page 15 of Shut Up and Drive

“So take it all at face value? I think you’re the only person on the planet whose Instagram isn’t a façade, then.”

My heart rate surges, and my palms begin to sweat on the steering wheel. I’m not prepared to tell Sera the whole truth. Not yet. I need more time to see if I can trust her, and how much information I’ll give her—considering the circumstances. But as much as my mind screams at me to keep my secrets, my heart begs to be let free. I take a deep breath, ready to throw out a softball truth to get the ball rolling.

“You wanna know the truth about my travels?” I ask, my shaky voice betraying the faux confidence I put on.

Sera nods. “Of course I do.”

“The truth is,” I begin slowly, “I…”

When the ringtone on her phone interrupts my confession, I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed. That’s the closest I’ve ever come to telling anyone except my parents the truth about my life abroad. It scares me to death, but deep down, I’m proud of myself for getting that far. Maybe I’ll get another chance later, and it won’t be so terrifying.

“Ugh. Bradley again,” she groans, and declines the call.

My stomach twists. I want to ask her more about him, but I also don’t want to know. It’s easier for me to pretend that she never stopped loving me when I imagine she’s never fallen for anyone else.

“What’s that all about? That’s not the first time you’ve sent him to voicemail,” I say with hesitation.

“He’s nobody,” she says, fidgeting with her seatbelt.

Suddenly there’s a time clock on my chance to repair things with Sera, because although she seems to want nothing to do with him, this guy is a threat until I can confirm that he isn’t. One thing Idoknow for sure: nobody will ever be good enough for Sera, especiallyBrad.

Especially me.

For some reason, the idea that she gave him her attention and affection for any prolonged amount of time makes my chest tight. I hung around with a lot of women on my travels, but never for more than a few days. The more I tried to fill my life with expensive parties and cheap thrills, the emptier I became. Toward the end of my time away, Icouldn’t even fake it anymore. I was miserable—though I never posted any of those photos.

“How did you meet? Let me guess, at the gym?”

“Yep.”

Her clipped answers give me pause, so I push harder.

“Why do I get the feeling that you don’t want to tell me about him?”

She throws her hands up in the air in exasperation. “I don’t know, Thane! It’s weird!”

Interesting…

“Why is it weird?”

“Because… oh, I don’t know. It just is, okay?”

“We’ve known each other our whole lives, Fina. What is it about him you don’t want me to know?”

“Nothing. I just know you wouldn’t approve of him anyway. He could’ve been the winner of the Nobel Peace Prize and you would’ve hated him.”

She’s right. I already hate him and all I know is his dumb name.

“What makes you think that I’d hate Brad? We’re adults now. I’ve met a lot of different people on my travels; maybe I’ve grown up.”

“You may be adult-sized, but you have definitelynotgrown up.”

“I resent that,” I reply, grasping my chest. “How do you know that I haven’t?”

“Thane, your last Instagram story was a video of guys trying to light their underwater farts on fire.”

A fit of laughter bursts out of me. “Yeah, that was pretty funny,” I say between breaths. “I didn’t think it would actually work!”

“Point proven. You are, and always will be, a fifteen-year-old boy.”