“I really had nowhere to go. All of my potential rides have already left the premises.”
Danny laughs. “Great, so you see me as a last resort. By the end of our drive, do you think I can convince you to start riding with me to school?”
“I’ll let you know after I evaluate your driving skills,” I say matter-of-factly as we walk toward the parking lot.
He lifts his chin. “Gracie, please. I’m an excellent driver. Flawless, really. You should see me parallel park.”
“Good for you.” I stop walking for a moment and look up at him. “Did you pass the test on the first try?”
He pauses and avoids eye contact with me. “I see no reason why that’s relevant.”
“Jeez, Danny. How many tries? Two?”
Danny resumes walking, jingling his keys in his hand.
“Holy shit. Am I going to die?” I follow after him, nearly jogging to catch up with his long strides.
“I’ll have you know the driving examiner had it out for me.”
I roll my eyes as we reach his car. “Please.”
“He did. He was wearing a Yellowjackets shirt. You know the Yellowjackets are our rivals. He probably recognized me and graded me unfairly,” he argues.
I raise an eyebrow. “Really? I find it odd that you would get the same examiner for both of the failed tests.”
“Well, the other ones disliked me, too, on principle. I could tell.”
“Ones?! Plural? Seriously, Danny, how many times did it take for you to pass the test? I deserve to know. It should be a mandatory disclosure for any riders in your vehicle.”
Danny coughs to hide it, but I can still hear him say “four” under his breath.
“Should I start praying?”
“You’re not religious.”
“I know, but this is an emergency scenario. I feel like God would take prayers by urgency and not the order in which they’re received. He just seems like that kind of guy, from what I know of him,” I explain, frantically gesturing to the sky.
“You’ve been to church a grand total of one time, Gracie,” he says flatly.
I pretend to be greatly offended. “Wow, Danny. Wow. Bringing up my mom’s funeral before you’ve even started the car.”
He laughs and we climb into his used blue Prius. It’s pretty clean on the inside with the exception of six empty sports drink bottles on the passenger side floor. I gently kick them over so I have room for my feet.
“Speaking of moms,” he says, “how come you’re better friends with my mom than me lately? Not gonna lie, I’m jealous.”
“I don’t know, Danny, maybe that has something to do with you all but ditching me over the summer,” I joke, then wince when it falls flat.
He’s not smiling. “Can we talk about that?”
“About what?”
“The way I’ve been acting.”
I fasten my seatbelt and shift nervously in my seat, fiddling with the climate controls. Going into this car ride, I kind of hoped he wouldn’t address it and kind of hoped he would. “Oh. Um, okay. If you want.”
“I’m sorry, Gracie. I’ve been a shitty friend for a while now. I let football camps and other relationships get in the way of us, and…well, I want my best friend back. I’m not just saying this because of my breakup, and”—he takes a deep breath—“I miss you.”
I pause, digesting his apology. Hehasbeen a shitty friend. At the same time, I never told him how I was feeling and made assumptions on his behalf. Every friendship experiences ups and downs. With Danny, there were so many ups that any down was going to feel big.
