Page 53 of Live for Me

“Uh huh,” I mumbled. “Brake’s on the left. Use your right foot for both it and the gas.”

“The gas?”

“Theaccelerator,” I said and rolled my eyes. “The one that’s going to make you move. Call it whatever you want, sassy britches. Once you put it into gear and take your foot off the brake, the truck will start rolling.”

“The gears, the brake, the accelerator, the speed,” she said. “You’ve explained four whole things. Why are there nine million other buttons and lights?”

“They tell you how happy the truck is,” I said and reached across her to grab the seatbelt to buckle her in while she scowled at me. “I’m only kind of fucking with you,” I laughed. “Oil pressure, engine revolutions, engine temperature, tire pressure. A lot of it really is whether or not the truck needs something or if there’s an issue. You ready?”

“No,” she said instantly.

“You’re going to do it anyway, angel.”

I watched her raise both hands to grab either side of the wheel until her knuckles turned white and she forced a giant breath out of her body. I put my hand over her right one for just a second.

“You don’t have to be afraid of it just because you didn’t master it ahead of time, Memphis. Nothing out here is going to hurt you.”

“There’snoway you could know that. That’s when the worst things seem to happen. Right when you start to believe they can’t. It’s way easier to believe something terrible is always around the corner so you’re just ready for it.”

She was programmednotto live in the present.

She believed if she could see three steps ahead of the rest of the world, she could prepare for the worst before anyone else even realized it was coming.

I couldn’t imagine a more exhausting way to live.

I squeezed her hand before I let go of it.

“Whenever you’re ready, sugar.”

Apparently, I never should’ve released her hand.

Or the wheel.

She didn’t just ease down on the gas. She dropped her foot down on that bitch. The truck launched forward, Memphis screamed, and the girl threw both hands up in the air.

Why it didn’t dawn on her to simply remove her foot from the pedal that was making us move was beyond me. I lunged for the wheel to at least keep the truck moving in a straight line down that runway.

“Footoffthe gas, Memphis.”

She looked down at her own foot like she was having trouble telling it what to do.

“Angel,” I tried again. “Move your foot to the brake and push down on it.”

The truck squealed to a dead stop a few seconds after that while she continued her silent panic beside me.

And I did everything I could to avoid laughing because it sure as shit wouldn’t help the situation.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “So, next time, you’re going to very gently?—”

“Next time?!” she screeched. “I did it. I tried it. I’m done now. Go ahead and tie me up if that’s your solution because I‘mnotdoing that again.”

She pushed the button to unlock the doors and she had the driver’s side open before I’d even blinked.

“No, no! Memphis. Wait. Put the truck—It’s not even in park!”

But she was gone, with me sprawled across the seat reaching for her as she escaped and the truck started to roll forward again.

“God dammit. Get back, Memphis. Get away from the truck.”

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