Inconsolable » Squid [Holes]

16: About Face

"Well—you weren't complete shit that time. Almost had it. Just don't touch the gas when I tell you to brake," Alan had said after he regained his bearings. His fingers curled tight around the handle attached to the ceiling and his heart thudded in his chest but he still managed a laugh after the distressing display of failure.

"My foot slipped!" Mickey said. She glared down at the pedals beneath her feet. "The pedals are slippery!"

"The pedals are fine. I managed to come and get you, didn't I?" he replied.

"Right." Mickey looked over at him. The strap of the seatbelt pressed against her neck. He rolled his eyes, leaned across the center console, and adjusted it for her. "Speaking of which, how'd you get this truck?"

"Why?" Alan leaned back in his seat and studied her. She licked her lips. He spotted the expression on her face and heaved a sigh. "I didn't steal it if that's what you're thinkin'."

"I wasn't thinkin' that," Mickeys said. Liar. "I just know you don't own one."

His upper lip curled a fraction of a second and then fell back into place. "Does it matter?"

"Alan!"

"Geeze, Mickey. Relax. Someone owed me a favor, aight?"

"What kind of favor?"

"Just a normal favor. Forget it," Alan said. He stared out the front windshield of the truck, surveying the empty commuter lot. He figured they had maybe an hour, an hour-and-a-half left to get driving practice in before the cops were called around for "suspicious" teenagers loitering about. Cops that Mickey's mother probably called on him for taking her daughter away without her permission or some other excuse she could come up with. "Okay, try again." He leaned back against his seat and got comfortable. He adjusted his grip on the ceiling handle. "This time actually push the right pedals."

"Shut up." Mickey turned the keys in the ignition. The truck sputtered a few times before it turned over and roared to life, its headlights flickering in the twilight. She set her foot on the gas pedal and the truck steadily drove between the rows of semi-full parking spaces. Alan's gaze continuously shifted between the front windshield and the side of Mickey's tense face as she turned the wheel this way and that, slowly drifting from one side of the row to another; getting close to one car, correcting herself, getting closer to another, correcting, and repeating. He pulled his lips inward to keep from laughing.

"Okay, you're doin' fine. Just drive straight."

"I am!"

"No you aint. You keep turnin' the wheel. Drive straight."

"I. Am."

"Look out!"

Alan was thrown forward when the truck stopped on a dime. The sound of screeching tires was lost beneath Mickey's sudden scream. His forehead stopped a few inches away from the dashboard and then he was thrown backward against the seat. His eyes, once wide due to the sudden stop, closed as a hearty burst of laughter took over his body. He slapped his knee and wiped tears from his eyes. "Oh my god! That was great!" His words stuttered due to his laughter.

"Alan, you jerk!" Mickey screamed. She reached out to slap at him but the seatbelt locked her in place. Her face, redder than he'd ever seen it, scrunched up in her efforts to fight against the webbing that secured her. The sight only made him laugh harder. She gave up and slumped in her seat. "God! Why'd you do that?"

"I wanted to make sure you were alert."

"I thought you saw something! I thought I was going to run something over you...you...asshole!"