I grip the steering wheel, then head inside and find them on his nightstand. Not broken.
When I return, Noel’s in the damn car behind the wheel.
“I missed the bus. Can I drive?”
“You missed it?” I look down the road.
No sign of a yellow school bus. Guess he did miss it.
I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath. Then I make Tommy sit in the back and Noel drives.
Irritating. I’ll be a half an hour late for work. The crew will be standing outside, wondering if we’re closed.
I’m furious, but too damn exhausted to bother expressing it.
“Slow down, Noel. You are too close to that car.”
He does.
At least he’s smiling.
“I didn’t know you liked driving so much,” I say.
“Yup. Think I could take it out Friday night for a date?”
“A date?”
“Yeah. With Morgan.”
I grind my molars at the suggestion. But I am more worried he came up with the idea.
“First of all, no, the car is on its last wheels. Second, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Please!” he whines. “You went on a date. I want to take Morgan out.”
“Pull over the fuckin’ car.”
“No.”
“Now, Noel, or I’ll make you crash, kill you, resuscitate you, and kill you again.”
“Uh, you’re an asshat!” He jerks the car over and we switch seats.
“No more talking about Morgan,” I warn. “My job is to keep you out of trouble and graduate high-school. Morgan is trouble for you.”
He sulks, then leans close and sniffs several times. I shy away from him. “The hell?”
He squints as his face and ears flush red. “You smell like Morgan’s perfume.”
“What? How would you know?”
He furrows his brow, and his nostrils flare. “I smelled the same scent when I hugged her at church, at the center, and saw her in court.”
“Bro, calm down—”
“You fucked Morgan last night, didn’t you?”
“Lots of girls wear perfume.”
