It sounds pretty lame.
Which is why I dabble in real estate on the side. And buying classic cars on a whim. Based on how that’s going so far, I think I’ll stick with real estate.
I’m also aware that it looks really fucking weird to have a couple of dolls meant for six year olds riding shotgun in my car. I unbuckle the seat belt, toss them in the back, and shrug out of my super sweaty shirt. I grab my spare, which is draped over the back of the passenger seat, and the bottle of water.
I shrug into my dry shirt and fasten a single button. I can’t believe how freaking hot it is. It’s like living on the underside of a nut sack in a sauna.
My flip-flops slap the pavement, sticking a little with each step, as if they’re halfway to melting. I slide into the passenger seat of Nevah’s car and sigh when a blast of cold air hits my sweaty face and chest.
“Did the guy who sold you his car also sell you that shirt?” Nevah’s eyebrows lift above her sunglasses.
I run a hand down the patterned fabric. It’s an ocean blue Hawaiian print with penguins surfing waves. It’s meant to go with our Amalie Summer Beach campaign. The bright colors are eye-catching and do well in Instagram photos. “If I say no, are you going to make a comment about ransacking my grandfather’s closet?”
“I don’t have to anymore since you just did.” She grabs a water bottle from the backseat, unscrews the cap, and drains the entire thing in three long swallows.
“Wow. You must kick some serious ass at keg stand challenges.”
“It was probably my favorite subject in college, and consequently the reason I never graduated.” She waves a hand around in the air, as if she’s erasing her words. “Anyway, Lawson, tell me why you’re driving across the country if you’re not on the run?”
“Uh, well, I had some business in California I had to take care of and I have a couple of stops on the way back home to Long Island, so I figured instead of flying I’d buy a car and bring it back home and fix it up.”
“Just like that, huh?”
“Just like that. Although I’m starting to think my plan is flawed.”
She holds her fingers half an inch apart. “Maybe a little.”
We make small talk while we wait for the tow truck to show up and I keep trying to figure out why she’s so damn familiar.
When the tow arrives, I assume she’s going to leave, but instead, she offers to follow the tow truck to the garage.
“You’ve already gone out of your way to help me, I can just ride in the truck.” I motion to the burly, pot-bellied chain-smoking man currently giving us an excellent view of his ass crack as he secures my beautiful, broken car. Nevah leans over and pops the glove box. She grabs a small baggie, stuffs it into her back pocket, and calls out, “You bring your girl with you, Kenny?”
“Sure did, Nev,” he shouts back.
“You mind if I say hi?”
“Go for it.”
Nevah struts over to the passenger side of the tow truck, glancing briefly over her shoulder at me, while smirking. She whistles and calls out, “Princess, you keeping Kenny in line?” A giant Bull Mastiff’s head pokes out of the passenger side window, tongue lolling as soon as the dog spots Nevah. She barks once and a long string of drool drips slowly from her jowls to the ground.
Nevah pulls the baggie from her back pocket, retrieves a treat, and places it carefully on the end of the dog’s nose. Princess waits until she’s given the signal before she flips the treat off her nose and catches it with her giant tongue.
“I think you’re better off riding with me. Princess isn’t big on sharing her seat.” Nevah gives me a wink.
I stand awkwardly off to the side while she and Kenny discuss who should take me to the garage. He seems concerned about her welfare. I’m more concerned about Princess taking a bite out of me should I have to ride in Kenny’s truck. Or the possibility that I’m being duped and these two are black market organ thieves and they’re driving me to my demise. I really hope not.Six Degrees
NevahKENNY IS NOT pleased about my surfer friend Lawson riding with me. I assure him I’ll be fine and we’ll be right behind his truck.
The second I get into the car my phone lights up with a call. It’s definitely been more than ten minutes since I hung up on Cosy.
“Shit. That’s my sister. She’s probably losing her mind.”
I answer the call and Cosy’s voice blares through the speaker in the backseat. “Ten fucking minutes, you said, Nevah. Ten minutes! I can see that you’re still in the same damn place! What the hell is going on?”