So that was how Shelby and I ended up walking home together, taking the back roads from the school to my neighborhood. Turned out that she didn’t live very far from me, only a few blocks away. With all the things I knew about her, I couldn’t believe I didn’t know that. Her house’s distance from mine created so many opportunities to… no, no. I was not a stalker.
Because I was the sexiest man alive, I managed to knock myself out twice in one day, and because I did this, I couldn’t drive. I had to wait for my mom to come pick me up while I watched everyone else in my class leave in their cars. Just call me Captain Lady-Killer. No… the ‘captain’ made me seem like a murderer instead of a sarcastic, self-deprecating dork.
After a car ride engulfed in awkwardness, we pulled into St. Bartholomew’s Hospital of Beaver Falls, PA.
When Shelby had asked if we could listen to some music, I’d attempted the whole cliché as-she-reaches-for-the-radio-my-hand-will-brush-hers thing. Unfortunately, when we both reached for the radio, I stopped paying attention to the road and swerved into oncoming traffic.
Blasting car horns on all sides sounded as a sky blue Mercedes barely missed us. My tires screeched as I swerved us back into the right lane. Shelby looked like a scared rabbit, wide eyes and flared nostrils. When I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror, I looked like an even more scared rabbit.
“Whoops,” I said, trying to play if off like it was nothing, but I felt like she could hear me sweating.
She shot me a terrified glance, then turned on the radio.
“Trying to be my best, when I fall, it’s a mess!” screeched through my shoddy speakers.