“I heard that, and I’m not playing a musical this time.” Brendan settled into the driver’s seat.
“Good luck,” Christina whispered. She filed into the back with Javier and another club member.
I’ve never sat in the front.Aiden stared.
People died in the front.
When he was younger, Aiden's father forced him to watch videos of a driver getting shot from various angles. The explosion of the head from behind, the splattering of blood, and the eyes that rolled backward. He didn’t know a head could open the same way a watermelon did when someone hit it with a hammer. His father showed him the bullet from that shooting, and he stayed awake at night tormented by the fact that something so small could rip through the hard, protective dome of a human skull. In the video, the car veered over the edge of the road, and the passengers mangled themselves on sharp glass and twisted metal.
Then again, perhaps it didn’t matter where one sat. His brother died in the back.
“You coming?”
Aiden flinched as Brendan’s voice pulled him back. He nodded. “Yeah.”
He slid into the passenger seat.
“Tell me, why is it harder to study in college than it is in high school?”
“Really? I think it’s easier!”
“Why are grades even necessary in the first place? We should just ban the concept of grades altogether.”
“Hey, I like it when I score well!”
“You, Javier, are crazy, so your opinions do not count!”
Aiden glanced back, opening his mouth in the spaces between the passengers’ conversations but closed it permanently after the third failed attempt to join in. Skin flushing, he clenched his hand and stared down at his lap.
“Brendan, the light!” Javier cried. Everyone lurched forward at the abrupt stop. “Aiden, watch out for him! I’m telling you—this guy is the definition of a distracted driver.”
“I saw that. I was just testing you all,” Brendan argued.
“Sure.”
“Sorry.” Aiden snapped his head up. Heart pounding, heat creeping, and hands clenching harder, he fixed his eyes forward toward all the upcoming lights. "I'll watch him from now on."
“Nah, it’s not your fault. If only the driver were better.” Javier reached over and hit Brendan slightly on the head.
Brendan glared back. “You're not helping me either.”
The air squeezed around Aiden. “I’m really sorry.” His pounding heart sent shivers across his body, dragged like nails across a chalkboard. His hands began to quiver, but clenching his jaw, Aiden forced them still while keeping his eyes on the road.
For a second, he thought he heard his stepmother’s voice whispering in the back.
The banter between Brendan and Javier petered out.
A warm hand squeezed Aiden’s shoulder, pulling his focus away from the lights. Aiden turned to look at Brendan in surprise. The president of the photography club was smiling. His left hand tapped the side of his steering wheel while he hummed lightly. “Oh yeah. We never actually introduced ourselves in the stereotypical way.”
“Is that really necessary?” Christina asked.
“I think so. Our name and major. That’s all.”
“Oh, I’m going first then!” Javier raised his hand. “I’m Javier, and I’m majoring in biological engineering!”
His heart jolted, instantly ceasing its drumming. He looked back with wide eyes. “Wow, that’s difficult.”
“Thank you. I like a good challenge.” Javier puffed out his chest. “Oh, and I’m also minoring in history.”
