Page 39 of The Backtrack
Humbe’s car was the kind of precious that made everyone nervous to so much as breathe near the thing. He wiped it with baby diapers and an oil you could only buy from Italy. He loved that car more than he loved Damon, or so Damon claimed. So for his dad to lend it to them for the night was, well, monumental.
“Room for three?” Sam asked as she jumped over the door of the car and landed in the back. She had another minute and a half left on the song. She tried to categorize what she was seeing for her notes later: prom night, Humbe’s car, Damon’s happy family, Alt-Sam’s bright eyes as she watched Damon in the driver’s seat.
Damon put the key in, turned the car on and “Dance, Dance” blasted from the radio.
He flashed a wicked grin as he pulled out of the driveway with a stop and start. He waved apologetically to his dad. The Mustang was a stick shift, and despite Damon’s lack of experience, the engine purred.
“I can’t believe Humbe let you borrow the car.” Alt-Sam touched the corsage absentmindedly.
“He must be in a really good mood or something.” Damon’s hands tightened on the wheel.
“Maybe he and Cathy...” Alt-Sam made an obscene hand gesture.
“Don’t finish that sentence, please.” Damon reached over for Alt-Sam’s hand and she gave it to him.
“Speaking of...” Alt-Sam reached into her purse and pulled out a Trojan, flashing it at Damon. “Pearl gave me condoms.”
“Really?” Damon laughed nervously. He revved the engine and Alt-Sam’s grin widened.
“Damon!” Adult Sam squeaked out as he put his foot to the metal and the car kicked off like a racehorse leaving the gate.
Sam held on to the back of both of their headrests as the car sped down the residential street. A squirrel awkwardly darted out of the way as Alt-Sam let out a loud and satisfied “Wooooo!” and flung her arms over her head and up into the air.
Sam couldn’t help but remember the day before, and the loudwhoopshe’d let out as she flew Damon through the sky. Now the steering wheel was in his hands, though.
“My dad may never let me drive his car again. We’ve got to make the most of it,” Damon explained as he switched gears.
Damon’s inner adrenaline junkie was coming out. The same way it had at the annual school fair, when he’d make them ride the Tilt-A-Whirl until they were borderline nauseated. But now that Sam flew for a living, she didn’t crave the constant proximity to danger the way she sometimes had growing up. And to be honest, the speed and Damon’s driving style made her queasy.
It didn’t help that Damon kept looking over at Alt-Sam to gauge her reaction. Almost like he was doing all of this for her. Like he was trying to impress her.
“Damon.” Alt-Sam’s voice burst through her own thoughts and Sam blinked at the road ahead. Which is when she saw it—the stop sign that Damon was careening toward. A sedan started to move across the intersection. If Damon kept driving the way he was, he’d run right into the car.
Damon grinned at Alt-Sam, still unaware, and picked up speed.
“Damon! Stop!” Alt-Sam shouted.
There was twenty seconds left on the song. “Oh, God,” was all Sam could say as she felt the car turn, and then saw the stop sign they were heading straight toward.
The final “Dance, Dance” lyrics raged from the radio. Sam wrapped her arms tightly around her body as she braced for impact.
15
Sam was back in her childhood bedroom. The song had ended, and so had the vision. But what happened to her and Damon in that car? Were they okay? Her fingers twitched as she looked down at the player. She’d planned to listen to a song and leave it at that. But there was no time to waste. She needed to know if they’d wrecked. She was about to hit Play when the doorbell ding-donged through the house.
Sam stood, looked out the window and spied Rachel’s unmistakable perfect bob.God dammit.
The doorbell rang again and Sam knew she had to answer it. She couldn’t just skip to the next song and leave Rachel waiting outside.
Sam hustled to the front door. She’d let Rachel in, explain the situation and then they could play the next song. Rachel would understand that.
But Rachel’s smile immediately fell as Sam opened the front door. “What are you doing with thatthing?” Her gaze landed at the CD player in Sam’s hand.
Well, maybe she wouldnotunderstand.
Rachel tossed her duffel bag into the hallway, then snatched the CD player from Sam. “We had an agreement.”
“I had a bad day,” Sam started to explain. “My grandma is sleeping, so keep your voice down.” Rachel breezed past her, gave the room a quick once-over, then returned her focus to Sam.
