Page 106 of The Lost and the Found

Hayden

I gotmy driver’s license a week after the whole Clarissa incident, as I was now referring to it.

The test wasn’t as hard or as long as I thought it would be. We didn’t spend too much time at the DMV, because Logan knew a guy. They gave me a temporarily license until my real one came in the mail—to Logan’s address, because I wasn’t spending much time at home, and I hardly got mail.

It was for the best, anyhow, considering the mailboxes at my apartment complex weren’t in the best shape. A little wiggle and you could pop open the “locked” doors.

We walked out of the DMV and I frowned, keeping my temporarily license out of sight. Logan noticed my expression, but he waited until we got in the car before turning to me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I answered quickly. Too quickly. I really needed to stop doing that.

“Are you sure?” He didn’t sound like he believed me. I should be insulted.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Can I see your license?”

“Why?” I asked defensively.

Logan shot me a bewildered look and I clutched the paper license tighter to my chest. “I just want to see. It’s your first one, and I think we should go out and celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

He smiled. “Yeah. You know, because you achieved a huge milestone in America.”

“For getting my license?” That sounded like a stupid thing to be celebrating. I didn’t say that, though. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings—he looked way more excited about this than I was.

And it wasn’t that I wasn’t excited. I just wasn’t as excited. Then I thought about the damn thing again and I let out a silent groan.

“Yeah, we can go celebrate, if you want.”

I tried to sound enthusiastic about it, but Logan saw right through me. His smile widened. “Can I see your license, now?”

I bit my lip trying to think of reasons why I wouldn’t have to let him see, but none of them sounded good, and Logan could probably see through my bullshit anyway. “Fine, but you have to promise you won’t laugh.”

A bemused smile touched his lips. “Why would I laugh?”

I didn’t say anything. I handed the damn thing over to him, and Logan took his sweet time looking at my picture. His lips twitched suspiciously, but he didn’t laugh.

No, he only looked like he wanted to.

I let out a groan and then said quietly, “I look like a crackhead.”

Logan lost it then, and I glared at him, taking back the license. I proceeded to ignore him the rest of the drive back to his place. I didn’t answer him when he asked if I was hungry, and I certainly didn’t acknowledge his apology. It didn’t sound sincere, and I didn’t much care for that, especially when there was still a hint of laughter in his voice.

This was all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to laugh. He was supposed to find me beautiful, no matter what. Even when I looked like a crackhead, and yeah, I knew how they looked, considering I’d been approached by a number of them years before.

My decision not to wear any makeup this morning came back to bite me in the ass in the worst way.

And who the hell decided it was okay for people not to smile for their DMV pictures? Would a smile really make it that hard for others to identify you as the license holder?

Screw the damn guy who took my picture. Because he told me not to smile, and he took my picture before I was ready. I bet this was his way to make his tedious job not feel so… well, tedious.

Letting people walk out of there with stupid pictures on their driver’s licenses…

I was still giving Logan the silent treatment when we got to the elevator. I punched in the code, because, yes, I knew what it was. The day after we had sex, Logan gave me a pink key to his place, and I almost threw the key back at him.

Because it was pink, not because I thought he was moving too fast.

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