no control

• fourteen •

gladys

Brant's flashy red BMW parked at the edge of the yard at 7:29. I jumped up from the bed where I'd been watching through my bedroom window. I grabbed my phone and rushed out.

Bernice and Alyssa looked over from their spot on the couch.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, hot mama?" Bernice asked.

"The senior bonfire is tonight," I told her. "I won't be out too late."

She shrugged. "Fine. Stay out as late as you want, but be responsible. No dying, pregnancies, or DUIs, okay?"

I saluted her and grabbed the door knob.

"You look hot, by the way!" she shouted as I slipped outside.

"Thanks!" I shouted back.

Nervous, I glanced down at my outfit and wondered if I was going to be overdressed.

I was dressed in black jeans and a cropped sweater with matching combat boots. For good measure, I brought a coat with a hood on it in case I froze my ass off.

Brant honked. I scuttled over to his freshly waxed car and plopped into the passenger seat.

"Well, I'll be damned," he said with a smirk. "Looking good, Wilder."

I smiled sweetly. "Thanks."

My eyes roamed over his tan canvas jacket and dark jeans. His hair was combed over neatly with gel.

I thumped him on the arm.

"Ow!" he squealed. "You can't hit the driver!"

"You look so nice!"

He shot me a nervous look like he thought I might hit him again. "Is that supposed to be a compliment? I'm getting mixed vibes from your words and your violence."

"You told me to wear a hoodie!" I hissed.

I thumped him again and was rewarded with a girly shriek.

I crossed my arms and slumped in the seat, muttering, "Thank god I didn't listen or I'd look homeless standing next to you."

"A hoodie would have been fine," he said, waving me off. "People will be dressed in all kinds of things. Some girls will be in next to nothing, some will be in sweatpants."

He fiddled with the radio until he found something he liked.

"So, I've got some seltzers and wheat ale," he went on. "Hopefully you like one or the other?"

"That's fine." I shrugged. "I'll drink whatever you have. Thanks for sharing."

"You're welcome, Wilder." He threw me a wry look. "Whatcha been up to today, anyway? Must have been real busy since you never texted me."

His feigned hurt expression made me smile. As I recalled the early parts of my day, recounting my earlier conversation with Ben, the energy leaked out of me like a broken faucet.