I drop the white shirt from my chest to the ground, in such a rush that I even put on the simple gray T-shirt from my closet inside-out. I carelessly kick my high heels into their designated spot, don’t even bother tying my sneakers, just slip them on with an “I’ll tie them in the car” mindset, and dash toward the back exit. Of course, I leave my keys and bag in the closet, so I quickly step back to grab all my essentials before heading out again to the Volkswagen, which is idling just for me. I push open the door and almost sprint to the parking lot, but Mark isn’t waiting there - instead, he’s parked right by the door with the engine running. I circle around the car and get in beside him without even closing the door before we’re off toward Sherrill.

  “Do we know what they did?” I toss my bag into the back and shove my phone into my pocket.

  “Of course not. They just gave us an address and told us to hurry.”

  “Wonderful.“ I exhale, finally taking the time to tie my shoes.” Why can’t we have a peaceful day?

  “What did your boss say when you asked to leave?”

  “It’s the first time I’ve done it, so I didn’t give him much of a headache. Plus, Mary was in today.”

  “Luckily. Got a cigarette?”

  “I’d give you a dirty look, but I’m tense too.” I open the glove compartment and take out the metal box, place a cigarette in my mouth and another in his. Though Mark could handle it on his own, I don’t want him to take his eyes off the road.

  I light both cigarettes with my silver lighter, then finally buckle my seatbelt.

  “What did your boss say?”

  “He wasn’t in today. I dumped the work on Thomas. At least I got out of the afternoon shift.”

  Silence fills the car for a while. I don’t even feel like turning on the radio. I hate that William and James bombard us with cryptic messages in the middle of the day, making us rush like wild rabbits. Whatever trouble they’re in, we go like good friends and help solve the problem - it works both ways, after all. But what they usually get up to... it’s more than unpredictable. They’ve known each other since childhood and have been through a lot of nonsense. We bonded over basketball, and ever since I’ve known them, my life’s been absurdly exciting.

  Need to weld an exhaust pipe at four in the morning? They’re up for it! Need to get a bike off the roof? We’ll light the way! The hallmark of our friendship is “No questions, just help.” Their lives are at least as questionable as Mark’s, with the only difference being that I know more about them. Fights, dirty money, illegal deals, the list could go on for at least another page. Whatever they did this time, it’s seriously questionable from every perspective.

  Even if the mood isn’t great, the weather is. The smell of the approaching summer drifts in through the half-open window. The air is still cool, but the sun is already burning my skin. I take deep drags from my cigarette, and while I ash in the tray by the gearshift, Mark flicks his out the window. I can tell he’s not exactly calm either. His eyes are sharp, the skin on his jaw is tight. I’m a bit afraid to talk to him at times like this, not because I expect any aggressive outbursts, but because I worry he’ll get distracted and drive nervously.

  So, I wait for him to calm down, even if it means we’ll be quiet the whole ride.

  Our trip doesn’t last long; Sherill is only twenty minutes away, just a few kilometers past Vernon. I was just about to call William when Mark let out a sharp “Holy shit!” and slowed down, pulling over to the side of the road. At first, I didn’t understand why, but when I looked up from my phone and saw the red Ford embedded in a tree - with three cars trying to pull it out - my mouth dropped open.

  I unbuckle my seatbelt while Mark turns on the hazard lights and pulls the handbrake, and we both practically fling our doors open at the same time to run over to the others. Mark races toward William, who is talking to one of the men, while I head for James, who’s standing about twenty meters away, phone in hand. I’m torn between hugging him or slapping him.

  “What the hell?” I burst out, slapping his hand. It seems like he could have more important things to do than scrolling through his phone.

  “A deer ran out. William swerved, and…” he explains in shock, not even bothering with a greeting, his pupils and body trembling.

  “Are you okay? You’re not hurt?” I reach for his arm to check his pulse, but as soon as I touch his skin, he falls into my arms like a little kid into their mother’s. He buries his head in the crook of my neck, muscular arms wrapping around me, his blond curls obscuring my view of the others.

  “Why can’t they pull it out?”

  “The suspension’s busted, and two wheels are broken.” my jaw drops again, torn between wanting to kill them and examining them to make sure they aren’t seriously injured.

  But right now, James doesn’t need that. He holds me in a hug for a long time while Mark goes to help pull out the car and the others push.

  “Nina, I love you!”

  “I love you too, but calm down,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. He finally lifts his head, and those desperate puppy eyes - I’ve never seen him like this...

  “But I’ve re-evaluated my life!”

  “I bet you have. The Ford is completely wrecked. How fast were you going?”

  James falls silent and steps back. My eyebrows shoot up - he’s clearly not the one to blame. I need to have a chat with William as soon as they get the Ford out, but that’ll take a while. As time passes, I inspect James’s body. He’s got a few bruises and will be wearing the mark of the seatbelt for a while. His pulse is around fifty, but I don’t notice anything else. He’s in shock, although that doesn’t surprise me. They’re unbelievable! I don’t get why, whenever they get a new car, they have to test its top speed. Though, this is more James’s style than William’s... the realization hits me like a slap.

  “James... You were driving?!”

  “What?!”

  “Don’t play dumb! William’s not as reckless as you are!”

  “No questions, just help!”

  “You almost died, James... Please don’t piss me off!”

  “Fine, I was driving, but the deer was at fault!” I take a deep breath to calm myself.

  Shaking my head, I give his shoulder a playful hit and head over to William, since Mark is busy helping move the car with a few strangers. We’ve blocked the whole road, and most cars have just turned around instead of waiting for this nightmare to end.

  “Hey, Nina!”

  “Don’t you dare greet me!” I point a finger at him, but he just smiles broadly and hands me a cigarette and a lighter.

  As much as he’s right that it’s pointless to be upset, a cigarette won’t fix this whole mess. I almost lost my best friends because of their curiosity. I look up at William - he’s over two meters tall, the shadow of his cap hiding his freckled face. Even in this situation, his expression remains perfectly calm.

  “We’ve already called the tow truck. It’ll be here soon, and the car’s moving now.”

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  “Why isn’t the Passat going full throttle?”

  “Because the driver’s too careful with his precious junk, and there’s a clearing behind him.” we exchange glances, both of us unable to believe the situation. Just then, the Ford’s rear wheels start spinning, and Mark yells at the Passat’s driver to floor it, and finally, the car is dragged out of the ditch.

  From there, the two drivers say their goodbyes, and a young guy with an Audi pulls the wreck into the right direction before driving off. Mark stops behind the broken Ford with his hazard lights on, and the four of us stand there, staring at each other in disbelief.

  “So...” Mark begins, but William places a hand on his shoulder.

  “Thanks, bro.”

  “I don’t even know what to call you guys!” Mark sneers at them, and James gives a sheepish grin.

  “We fucked up, I know.”

  “That’s an understatement.” I chime in. William sighs deeply, glancing at the wrecked red Ford.

  “What’s the plan for it?”

  “We’ll fix it up.” That's all it takes for us to burst into laughter, and James even snorts at the absurdity of it all. “Oh come on! We’ll swap out a few parts, give it a fresh coat of paint, slap on a new bumper, and it’ll be good as new!”

  “Sure, and I planted a tree and harvest money from it every summer!” Mark howls with laughter, and I have to lean on the wreck to keep from falling over.

  “And I go to Narnia every evening... Are you nuts?!” James’s laughter is worth everything, and I finally sit on the ground, just to avoid falling over. William’s freckled face flushes red with embarrassment as he tries to cover it, taking a deep breath and adjusting his black baseball cap before he too starts laughing.

  “Haha... Screw you all!”

  “But seriously!” I gasp as Mark helps me up from the road. “What’s going to happen to it?”

  “I’ll sell off the useful parts and scrap the rest. Honestly, what else can I do? The engine’s probably totaled, a new bumper won’t save it.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll help you get a new one.” James reassures him, but William shakes his head.

  “I gave you the car, I didn’t stop you. It’s my fault.”

  “That’s for another day. We’ll go with you to look for a new one.” Mark chimes in, his attempt to cheer up William having some effect, though the smile that forms isn’t quite genuine.

  James spots the tow truck from afar, so the three of us climb into the Volkswagen. William stays behind until they load up his car, talks briefly with the driver, and then joins James in the backseat. William gets in with a comment “This is how it’s done”, yet it’s not Christmas, and honestly, I’m glad. If he had been brooding, James would have started blaming himself, and that would’ve killed the mood completely. But instead, the whole ride is filled with music and singing, with the occasional talk of how they plan to drink away the money from the car. The good mood lasts only until we arrive at William’s place and they drop off the car. Everyone looks on sadly as the wreck is unloaded, and they can’t keep pretending anymore.

  “What if we had died?”

  “Oh, come on, James...” I walk over and wrap my arm around his waist. “Don’t talk nonsense.”

  “Yeah, the important thing is that you’re okay... Anyone up for a drink?”

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to soak in the tub and rethink my life.” at William’s words, James nods, so we say a teary goodbye to both them and the car. To my surprise, though, we don’t head home.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Vernon.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I saw the others at the bar when we passed by, and they waved us over.”

  “Oh... Okay, finally, I can drink on my own dime.”

  “Didn’t you see them?”

  “I wasn’t really paying attention, to be honest.”

  “Dante waved so hard he nearly fell off his chair.”

  As we turn left onto the main road, I look out at the familiar landscape, the same view I’ve admired three times today. I’d say I’m sick of the familiar sight, but it’s nice to get out of the concrete jungle for a bit. My bag, which had slid into my lap during the ride, I toss back onto the rear seat. The thought of Dante nearly falling out of his chair brings a smile to my face, and when I realize it, I’m left grinning like a little girl. It makes me happy to get such a reaction out of him - or rather... he must’ve been acting like that because of me, right? He doesn’t seem to like Mark as much.

  “What are you grinning at?”

  “Nothing.” I cover my face, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. My smile turns into a laugh, and Mark’s nudge makes me look up.

  “Are you blushing?”

  “What?! No way!” I rolled down the window, needing some fresh air. “Tell me, Markie...”

  “Don’t...”

  I can feel him giving me a dirty look, but I don’t glance over.

  “What’s your relationship with Dante like?”

  “We used to be close, now... How should I put it, we talk to each other sometimes.”

  My suspicion is confirmed: Dante almost fell out of his chair because of me. But I can’t get ahead of myself; during our first meeting, he fell on me too, so maybe he’s just clumsy. Not that it matters anyway. I’m perfectly fine on my own. No one can break my heart, and I won’t lose sleep over someone hurting or doing something stupid. I’m perfectly happy in my little world with Mark and the others. Still... when we arrive at the bar and Dante turns to us with a smile, waving so hard his chair wobbles beneath him, I instinctively lean out the window to wave back. Christopher and Derek greet us as well, but Dante’s energy is on a whole other level. Mark parks about forty meters from the bar, and while he secures the car, I step out and adjust my clothes. The shirt is still inside-out, and for some reason, that really bothers me.

  “Ready to go?” I don't respond to my friend’s question, just smile as I head toward the bar. The guys start arranging chairs as soon as they spot us, and for some reason, I can’t wait to sit down and drink my first beer. I love how alive the atmosphere here feels.

  “Where’ve you been?” Chris calls out as we cross the distance, and Mark smiles.

  “Helping out an idiot.”

  “Just the usual.” I nod toward Derek, while Dante pulls out the chair next to him. I don’t need a bigger hint, so I settle myself down next to him, with Mark sitting between Derek and me.

  “What are you drinking?” Chris scrapes his chair against the asphalt as he stands up, and I don’t really know what to say at moments like this...

  “Whatever you’re buying.” After all eyes turn to me, I have to say something. “But the next round’s on me!” the brown-haired guy laughs and points a finger at me before disappearing inside.

  “How was the trip?” Dante asks, his gaze meeting mine as I lean on the table. This guy looks more dangerous up close. Those eyes are killer, and his smile radiates dopamine.

  “Not bad.” Mark’s serious tone sends a shiver down my spine, making me sit up straight and lean back in my chair.

  “I agree. How was your day?” I asked Derek and Dante. Chris is balancing a tray with four cherry beers, so I’ll have to ask him again.

  Conversation starts to flow, and everyone except Mark begins drinking. Derek spent the day typing at the office, and he says he’s planning to move out from his parents’ place soon, if everything goes well. Chris had a job interview and then hung out with his girlfriend. Dante simply says he spent the day relaxing and playing on his computer.

  I think he’s the only university student among us, so he doesn’t plan on looking for a job anytime soon; the scholarship is enough for him.

  Derek heads inside for the next round, and I ask for another beer, while the others want something stronger. Christopher manages to convince Derek to get him vodka, and since Derek’s also having vodka, they agree to take turns buying rounds. Dante nonchalantly asks for a “Sex on the Beach,” and for a moment, silence falls over the table again. Either Dante or I should be paying for the next round, but I glance slyly at the Volkswagen, realizing I’ll need my bag.

  “What is it, miss?” Mark calls me by his nickname for me, and Dante immediately clears his throat, glancing to the side. His steely blue eyes radiate confusion, and this look completely throws me off.

  “It’s just... my wallet’s in my bag,” I reply slowly.

  “I’ll get it.” Mark stands up and starts walking before I can remind him that I, too, have legs.

  “Why does he call you that?”

  “What?” i turn to Dante.

  “Miss...?” he practically chews on the word, staring at his glass instead of making eye contact.

  “We just... Give each other nicknames in our group sometimes. Nothing more.” Dante seems to relax a bit, but the nickname still seems to bother him. He glances at me sideways, guilt radiating from his eyes, though I can’t figure out why.

  Derek returns with the drinks, and Mark comes back with my bag. I thank them both for their service, but the storm inside me doesn’t settle, even though I know nothing happened. I take a long sip from my mug, take a deep breath, and finally turn my gaze to my friend.

  “Mark, could you please stop calling me that in front of others? It makes me feel a bit awkward.” His lips parted, and for a few seconds, he didn’t know what to say, but eventually, he smiled and apologized.

  Dante pushes his cocktail toward me after taking a sip. I don’t know if this is some “treat” for me, but I’m as happy about it as a puppy would be.