Jazzy music plays through the speakers as I move my feet with the rhythm, the soles of my ankle boots squeaking on the dashboard. My aunt, Courtney, winces as another bolt of lightning echoes through the night air. She takes a deep breath and takes a right turn, heading in the direction of Beacon Hills High School. I lightly shiver as the cool winds whip against my face through the open windows, a storm ensuing in town. Perfect weather for Senior Scribe.
"Come on, come on, come on!" Courtney huffs, pressing her hand down on the horn, hard as a car stops in front of us. "Fuck!" She yells, as the thunder cracks again, at the same time as the car in front of us starts moving. As if it isn't already obvious, my aunt hates lightning with a burning passion. Even now, her anger and anxiety were the only things I could smell in the car, invading my senses.
"I could've driven myself," I say in a sing song voice.
