![]() “Can’t you just call Brad and ask him out?” “You’re going to get pulled over, and Dad’ll take your car away,” I said. It would’ve been easy not to care that she was driving fifteen miles over the speed limit-the windows were down, the breeze warm, and there were still six weeks left of summer. I’ve been waiting ages for him to ask me out.” ![]() Rolling through stop signs on the drive home, she explained the rush. She had one job only-take me to and from school. Gainfully unemployed, my nineteen-year-old sister lived at home, ate Mom and Dad’s food, and had an allowance my dad constantly threatened to cut off. “Get in,” she said, as if I were making her late for something-even though I’d done nothing but wait in that same spot for forty-five minutes. Some pages later, Tiffany came around the corner, screeching to a stop at the curb. ![]() I hadn’t gotten my license yet, so what right did I have to complain? Instead, I did what I had every other afternoon and took out one of the books I needed to read before summer ended. It wouldn’t do much good now anyway, with only two days of summer school left. There were things I could do about that, like walk home, or tell my parents my older sister was always late to pick me up-but either of those would inevitably lead to an argument or two. ![]() It seemed unfair, spending three hours a day in a classroom during summer, only to wait another thirty minutes in the parking lot. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |