Cold Fire [SAMPLE]

[29]

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Caden is leaning against an old silver car parked out the front of my house, swinging his keys around and around a gloved finger. When he sees me approaching, he stands up straight and catches the car keys in his hand, smiling.

“Guess who got his licence,” he says smugly when I near him, as if he’s completely forgotten that barely five minutes ago he was lecturing me about my self-pity.

I frown and come to a stop in front of him. “You’re seventeen?”

“Well, no. I got my Learners Licence.” He gestures to the back of his snow-coated car, where the yellow L is stuck next to the number plate.

“You do realise that you can’t drive without an adult present when you’re on your L’s, right?”

“Of course,” he says, then opens the car door. I watch him sit down, shifting in his seat until comfortable. “You getting in or what?”

I remain still for a second longer, running the risks over in my mind. The road is covered in ice, he’s just got his licence, he’s probably been taught nil about driving and is asking me to accompany him in his car without an adult present, which is incredibly dangerous, not to mention illegal.

I sigh and cross to the other side of the car, slipping into the passenger seat. “Just…don’t kill me, okay? And if we get pulled over by the cops, you will tell them that I did not consent to this – you forced me to come against my will, understand?”

He smiles. “Don’t worry, I’ve been driving for a while today and nothing’s happened. It’ll be fine. Trust me – I’m a natural.”

“Sure,” I say sarcastically and strap myself in, smiling. But the grin sits uncomfortably on my face, and my mind is screaming too soon! as if it’s trying to remind me of the events of this morning just in case I forget. A second later, the muscles maintaining my happy expression go limp and my face resets to default – a look that mixes sadness and boredom with disinterest, like its cooking a meal for people who lack tastebuds.

Caden starts the engine and the old Toyota kicks into life, coughing and spluttering as if waking from a one hundred year sleep. When he presses down on the accelerator, I grip onto the edge of the worn seat, squeezing until my knuckles turn white and the padding flattens to the size of paper.

But the initial few metres turn out to be the worst, and only because the car is still waking. I quickly realise that Caden wasn’t joking when he said he’s a natural. He drives straight ahead, just under the speed limit, with a grace that would be impossible for even Rand to manage. Not that that’s an accomplishment – Rand drives as if he’s just escaped prison and is jacked up on drugs.

When we near the corner, Caden turns on his blinker as if it’s second nature, and he comes to a smooth stop at the traffic lights. I find it in myself to relax.

“How many driving lessons did you say you’ve had?”

“None,” he says, and as I look out the window to my left, I catch him grinning to himself out of the corner of my eye. I sigh. I hate to think that I’m about to spoil his mood. Again.

I allow for a brief silence before speaking. “How did you know to come to my place, by the way? Who told you?” I try to ask the question as if I’m only talking about something casual, being as vague as possible and hoping he’ll catch on.

He does. I watch his smile vanish from his face as if it was never there. “You weren’t at school. I knew something must have been wrong, so I told Sarah and she agreed to come with me to your place. When we got there, we stood on the doorstep for ages until your dad finally opened the door. We told him we were your friends and he told us what had happened and that you wouldn’t be coming to school today. Then he shut the door.” He shrugs. “I tried knocking again, but he wouldn’t let us in and Sarah was… She just needed to get away. So we drove for a bit and then she wanted to go to the shops, so I dropped her off came back to get you.”