Maybe it’s everything that has happened today alone.
Maybe it’s the kiss or the contract or the text message I just sent Cassie.
All I can manage is, What’s your favourite food ?
I see the surprise, alight in her eyes. But she doesn’t press me-and truth be told, I am doubting my sanity. Out of all the things I could have asked . . . what’s your favourite food ?
Makizushi, she says simply.
What is that ?
It’s really good, she says, sounding . . . excited. It’s rice rolled into these thin sheets of nori seaweed. You have to try it-the perfect combination of crisp skin and flavoured rice.
You’ll have to take me some time, then, I say.
Why did I say that ?
Her mouth forms into a smile, but she keeps her eyes on the road.
You mean, like a first date ? she says.
No, like a second one, I say. I thought getting chased by a horde of angry Japanese mobsters was already our first ?
A laugh slips out of her. Then you must think I’m a real romantic.
I do, believe me. Softer.
Her eyes slide to mine in the rearview mirror. Her full mouth is curved into a delicious grin, an unspoken promise in the air.
The tension between us grows blisteringly hot. My cheeks turn warm.
And then I scream, Look out !
Veah swerves the car just in time to avoid a truck barreling towards us-I am thrown towards the dashboard-the headlights flare, tires screeching against concrete-
That would have been the second car accident I had with you ! I gasp. The seatbelt strap digs into my chest.
To no one’s surprise, Veah seems entirely too calm. In control.
Why are you not freaking out right now ? I demand.
Her face betrays no emotion, but there is bright, devouring alarm in her eyes. I follow her line of sight until I am twisting around-trying to get a better look of what’s behind us.
Quick question, I say breathlessly. Why is that truck making a U-turn ?
The truck’s tires skitter against the empty road. The entire compartment is shifting, arching, as it begins to spin itself back towards us.
Maybe it’s friendly, I say numbly. Maybe it’s checking if we’re okay-
Like a bull rearing its head, the truck’s headlights become blinding. The engine vibrates.
And then it begins hurtling towards us.
Veah, I say. I think the Yakuza might have found us.
I see a flash of Veah’s white teeth as she grins. Slamming down on the gas pedal.
You think ? she says, and this time, I am pitched back against the leather seat.
One of these days, I am going to throw up on her. She’ll probably kill me, but it will be worth it.
You’re a maniac, I say breathlessly, and I am never, ever going to let you drive again.
Okay, no problem. When we’re dead in a ditch somewhere, I’ll let God know it was because you wanted to obey the speed limit.
Great, then I’ll wave to you while you’re in hell and I’m in heaven. God will be very understanding of me following the rules.
Last time I checked, obeying the speed limit wasn’t one of the Ten Commandments.
I don’t think you’ve ever checked the Bible in your life.
Good thing, because I think we’re about to go way over the speed limit.
The car begins to pick up in speed, so fast the world around us is a blur-so fast I would not be surprised if we end up time traveling to 1955.
Just so you know, I manage to shout, not knowing the rules doesn’t pardon you of them !
Her voice rises higher than the whipping wind and the deafening roar of the engine. I’m happy you have the right priorities !
I always do !
Veah keeps her foot on the gas pedal, leaning forward so she can see the road. I see grey on the horizon-a storm coming soon.
We’re going to get out !
We’re going to do what ?
She parks the car in a beach lot, sand billowing out against the windshield. We come to a halt so suddenly I know the seat belt against my neck is going to leave a bruise.
Get out of the car ! she orders.
So we can get run over ? I shriek.
I might be a little hysterical right now.
But Veah has saved me every single time-even against all odds-so I do. My shaking hand unbuckles my seatbelt and I unlock the car door, stumbling out onto the sand.
The truck isn’t slowing down.
The truck isn’t slowing down, I inform Veah.
It’s not supposed to, she says grimly.
The beach here is windy. Abandoned by all tourists, thanks to the incoming storm. The ocean tugs at the shoreline viciously, and all that is in sight is a small outhouse and a lifeguard tower.