Page 71 of Shut Up and Drive

“Thane Donnelly…” I mumble under my breath as I slide the keys into my pocket and put the Oreos back.

I slip out of the pantry and find Bradley on his hands and knees in the laundry room with his veiny arm halfway under the dryer.

“Hey. I found ‘em. Let’s go.”

He jumps up like I just told him there was a BOGO sale on creatine pre-workout powder at GNC and runs into the garage. I take a deep breath in, wishing I would’ve thought to grab a cookie for the road, and hop in the driver’s seat.

The ride into town is spent in silence, but I can feel the frustration emanating from Bradley. I don’t bother trying to smooth things over. He can be a drama queen and pout if he wants to be; I’m too tired to fight right now.

He opens the charging cable before we leave the parking lot. He breathes a sigh of relief when he plugs his phone in, like he’s been without oxygen for hours. I, on the other hand, breathe a sigh of relief because for now, his “Hulk Mode” is calmed and tucked away again. I’ve only seen him get super mad a few times, but it was enough to scare me into never triggering it. He spends the fifteen-minute drive back to the lake house frantically answering text messages. I can’t understand how selling supplements can be such an emergent job, but apparently it is. He doesn’t look up untilwe pull into the garage. Then, without a word, he gets out of the car, slams the door, and leaves me in the silence.

I pick up my phone and send a quick message to Thane:

Sera: You hid them in the Oreos? Really? You are in SO much trouble.

Thane: You’re welcome, Pidge.

Sera: Sends .gif of Liam Neeson threatening, “I will find you.”

Thane: Sends .gif of Ryan Gosling giggling.

I curse under my breath, turn off my screen, and throw my phone in my purse. But then I think about the ingenuity of hiding the keys in the Oreos, and I start to giggle. I don’t give Bash and Thane the satisfaction of a full-out laugh, but I secretly give them points for creativity—though I’ll never tell them. I’ll keep this secret appreciation locked in a vault forever.

I take my time going back into the house. The peace I find in the car to sit in silence and breathe out my stress is a much better deal than what I’ll be walking into. I’m surrounded by darkness when the overhead light for the garage door opener turns itself off, and I take that as my cue to go back to reality. As I open the door to the mudroom, I hear Bash and Thane chuckling as they come in from the backyard, and I know my troubles with those two have only just begun.

Chapter 28

OPERATION RASH BOY

Thane

My double-gloved hands select the perfect vine of poison ivy, and Bash cuts it with a plastic knife. I glance around the forest, making sure no one saw us, then wrap the vine in a circle around my hand.

“We have to remember to get rid of everything this touches, because the oils stick around forever,” he says, opening a zip-top bag for me to place it in.

“Even the pillowcase?” I ask, raising a brow. “Our moms might notice.”

“Nah. You just have to wash it in a super-hot water load two or three times. It should come out,” Bash says casually.

“How do you know this?”

“Dude. Google is a thing. Use it once in a while.”

I resist the urge to smack his face with my contaminated gloves, and we sneak into the house and up to the bunk room.

“Check Sera’s location on your phone to make sure we won’t get busted,” I say to Bash as we flick on the light upstairs.

Bash checks his phone. “They’re pulling through the security entrance now. We’ve got less than five minutes.”

I frantically pull the poison ivy from the bag, rub it on Brad’s pillow, and shove it back into the bag.

“Operation Rash Boy is complete,” I whisper. “Let’s destroy some evidence.”

Brad is at the bottom of the stairs when we reach the loft, and I freeze. Bash and I share a nervous glance, and he does some weird Secret Service hand gesture that goes completely over my head, so I just go for it. I jog as nonchalantly as I can down the stairs, and Bradley mutters a “What’s up?” to us. For a moment I think we’ve been made. But he’s so busy staring at his phone we slide right past him and mutter a reply.

First level, passed. Now we just have to get by our moms—the final bosses—before we can get outside.

The aroma of taco night fills my nose as we skirt past our suspicious mothers with our contraband. We share a glance as both moms look up from their tasks, and Bash carefully slides open the glass door.