Page 48 of Shut Up and Drive

“You didn’t say goodbye. I didn’t even mean enough to you to leave a stupid note?!” I shout. “You meant theworldto me. And you discarded me like I was yesterday’s garbage.”

It was that day that I built a fortress around myself and never let anyone in again. I moved through the world like a shell floats through the surf: empty and aimless. Tossing around at the mercy of my environment. Hoping someday someone would stop in their tracks when they saw me, andchooseme.

At twenty, I went to culinary school and found a new love as a pastry chef, but cakes were the only sweetness I let into my life. I poured myself into my work—became the best of the best—and my reputation preceded me. I had a nice apartment and enough money to live in the city, but I could never snip that tiny thread that tied me to Thane.

My car Priscilla is the last ghost from my past that I hold onto, because she has Thane’s fingerprints all over her. When she needed repairs, Thane fixed her. And when he couldn’t fix her, he’d duct tape or wire things until she worked again. There are still sticky pieces of leftover ducttape on the dash I couldn’t fully remove. They’re stuck there for good, just like Thane is in my heart—all over, and impossible to remove. It’s the only physical evidence of his existence that I have left.

Thane rests a warm hand on my arm on the console. “I don’t want to interrupt you, because I think we both need to hear this right now, but I’d like the chance to explain why I did that.”

I take a deep breath and brace myself for what he’s about to say. After this moment, there will be no more speculation, no more wondering why. That question that has haunted me for years will finally be put to rest.

Am I ready for this?

Thane’s hands fidget with his seatbelt, and the way they shake tells me this is about to change everything.

“I walked away because you deserved better than me, and I knew that. So, instead ofbecominga better man—a man you deserved—I left like a coward. If I faced you—if I looked into those deep brown eyes, or kissed your soft lips—I knew I’d never be able to leave.”

“So you ran off in the cover of darkness,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

He hangs his head in shame and goes quiet.

My pulse quickens and my lungs get tight in my chest. “I can’t do this,” I say, and whip across two lanes of traffic to exit. “I don’t want to be in the deep end anymore. Let me out of the pool.”

I pull over at the end of the off-ramp and frantically swipe at my tears as I fight for a productive breath. I’m shattering into a million pieces next to the boy I’ve always loved, coming to me as a man with his heart in his hands. Then,just when I’m about to fall completely to pieces, his gentle hand strokes my hair like he used to. It’s cathartic. Familiar.Painful.But I don’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “If I could take it all back, I would. I hate that closure is messy, but we both need this.”

“Of course we do. But I needed you to come back and be hideous and horrible, not apologetic and charming and sweet. What am I supposed to do with that? I’ve done everything I can possibly think of to move on. And you come sauntering back into my life on a whim and set me all the way back to square one.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and fling open the driver’s side door. “I can’t process all thisanddrive.”

I march to his side and yank open the door. He clicks the buckle and steps out cautiously. He slides past my body like I’m a landmine waiting to go off and jogs to the driver’s side.

I put my seatbelt back on, tuck my legs up to my chest, and bury my face in my knees. Thane puts the car in drive, gets back on the freeway, and I silently cry for a good half hour. As each mile passes, the pit in my stomach grows heavier and heavier. I don’t know what to say, and part of me wishes I could rewind the last hour and start again. We were making great progress, then he went ahead and blew up the whole thing by going full bore into fix-it mode.

I don’t want him to fix it, though. Do I?

After a while, my eyes get heavy and my head swerves in and out of sleep. The last thing I remember is Thane putting my travel blanket over my shoulders before I drift off intoa dreamless sleep.

Thane shakes me gently.

“Fina, we’re here,” he says softly.

I open my sandpaper eyelids and blow my nose into a napkin. I glance in the mirror, and my puffy, red face says it all. Before I can hide my emotions from my parents, they’re rushing out to the driveway to greet us. I watch their excited smiles turn to concern as they see my red-rimmed eyes.

Mrs. Donnelly smacks Thane’s arm. “What did you do?” she hisses.

He opens his mouth to explain, but judging by his twisted features, he’s not even sure what to say.

That makes two of us, Thane.

Our dads see the impending drama and sidestep toward the trunk to grab our bags.

“Come on, Vivian, it’s been a long trip. Let’s let these kids get settled in,” Mr. Donnelly says to Thane’s mother as he passes by.

I’m grateful that he has taken the attention off us and pointed it to the task at hand. But my mom still eyes me suspiciously. Everyone else makes their way up the driveway first, and my mom loops her arm in mine—controlling our pace.

“How was the drive, Mija?” she asks quietly.

“That’s a loaded question, Mama,” I say, my comment coming out more short than I meant it to.