“Whatcha writing in there?” Kel asks, leaning forward and pressing his face against my seat.
I gasp. He’s in my comfort zone. Quickly closing my notebook, I stuff it back into my bag.
“Just work,” I lie. Finn smiles at me then refocuses on traffic.
“What do you do at Seamore?” Kel asks, his face way too close to my shoulder.
“If you sit back in your seat, I’ll tell you.”
“Stop bugging everyone. Damn, you’re irritating,” Emerson states as she munches on a banana chip.
“Your crunch, crunch is more irritating than me, right Liz?” he asks with a laugh.
I don’t respond, hoping he’ll take the hint that I don’t want to talk. He doesn’t.
“So, you looking for a boyfriend or is marketing man you’re one and only?”
Finn’s eyes squint with mischief.
“I work in accounting,” I say, answering his earlier question and ignoring the other, hoping he’ll drop it.
“Accounting?” Kel asks. “Man, that sucks.”
“I actually love it.”
“Sounds boring as fuck,” Kel says with a yawn.
“You’re boring as fuck.”
“Shut the fuck up, Emerson,” he adds. “No one asked you. I’m having a conversation with the future mother of my children here.”
I start to cough, choking on my air.
Emerson laughs loudly. Finn reaches over to pat my back.
This is the worst commuter group in the history of commuting. I hate the carpool lane.
