The Baseball Badass

Chapter 10: Pasta and anemememeonies.

Ello loves, I've a love note at the end so check it homie. Not edited. You've been warned.
<3 
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Chapter 10: Pasta and anemememeonies.

"Dude what the fuck is your deal? Did you get dropped on the head?" I half screamed.

He didn't say anything just continuously stared off at the road. It made me even more pissed if possible. First he almost killed poor Waverly and I, and then he accuses me of even have an ouncling of like towards him. Oh, just like gag me with a spoon. I had the sudden urge to just punch the stupid I'm-such-a-macho-guy in his smirky face...again.

My evil scheme was struck by my reality.

Wait this could work... I don't have anything he could throw and smash, so what are the risks except for him crashing my car?

Oh yeah, that.

Totally harmless. 

God. 

I'm stuck in my car with a raging psycho, who's being all creepy silent and ignoring me. Seriously it's like he knows he's bothering me, he does it on purpose, I can swear by it. I hate when people ignore me! It aggravates me beyond belief. Especially him, because he gives you these weird serial killer looks. And I'm kind of scared to turn my own radio on, and he makes my car seem stuffy, and I just want to yell constantly, "I said what the FUCK is your deal?"

"I know what you said." he said bluntly, blankly staring forward gripping the wheel with his big man hands. He was holding a cigarette between his fingers nonchalantly driving. Just casual.

Because smoking illegally is super casual, never mind the secondhand smoke I'm absorbing.

I'm slowly losing all mental stability.

"So why aren't you answering me? You can't just drive into oncoming traffic! We could of died, our lives are in your hands right now smart ass!" My face was probably turning pink, I was outraged he wasn't taking, I don't know, life, more seriously. That's so many traffic and safety violations, you can't just swerve into oncoming traffic because you're trying to teach people lessons. It's unethical.

Chance remained calm adjusting the rear view mirror to see if Waverly had stirred during my outburst. He fixed the mirror again throwing out parentally, "Hey, no swearing Waverlys in the back."  

Was I hysteric? No. I was far beyond it. Hysterical was two miles back; we have driven off the cliff of metaphorical hysteria lane and we have crashed, and burned and fucking died. There's no turning back. And absolute outrage was consuming my being. She's in the back sleeping and there's no swearing allowed? In my car, my own car, key word own. You know what? I make the rules! "What do you mean no fucking swearing?! I can do what I want! You're not the boss of me!" A sour look plastered on my face,  I wanted desperately to stick my tongue out, knowing it went with that expression. Childish, yes, but he's like a big man child so whatever.

He gave me a dry look, imitating a childish five year old. My jaw dropping, I watched in horror as he he folded both of his arms across his chest, completely letting go of the wheel pretending to be an upset child. I frantically threw myself at the wheel saving our lives, while he continued spewing on about something.

"...Hi. My names Sage, and I'm fwive. And I'm a dumbass who's dwiving us into oncoming traffic."

I turned my head completely ignoring his statement to object to it, "I am not driving us into oncoming traffic." I watched as Chance's eyebrows shot up in alarm, he suddenly stopped with his childish antics gripping my hands on top of the steering wheel.