Page 384 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

He makes another random turn.

His eyes flick back up to the rearview.

Down to the road.

Rearview.

Road.

I exhale. “Something wrong?”

He doesn’t answer.

I nod. “Cool.”

He checks the mirror again,

and that’s it—I’ve had enough.

I start to turn in my seat to look back,

but he catches me at my thigh,

stopping me.

I study his face, seeing a frantic set of nerves tangled up in his anger.

He notices me staring,

realizes he’s exposed,

and tries to force his shoulders back,

easing into the seat.

But his hand stays on my thigh,

fingers spreading wide,

giving it a hard, lingering squeeze.

It’s strange as hell.

So naturally, I take him off guard:

“Why do you have two phones?”

I just blurt it ‘cause ‘fuck me?’

Nah. Fuck you.

He tenses, brows pulling together,

head turning slow to look at me,

then his hand slips from my thigh.

“Not now, aight?” His focus abandons me for the rearview again.