Minus Three Hours

Elizabeth felt a strange sense of smug pride sitting in the front passenger seat of the family minivan, a spot usually strictly reserved for her father or, in a pinch, her much favoured twin brother.

(She tried to introduce the shotgun game once. When your twin brother chips his front two teeth struggling to open the car door any sort of fun is immediately sucked out of the game during the two-hour lecture you get waiting in the orthodontists' office.)

It was with an odd combination of sorrow and adrenaline that lead her to follow Carlton’s best friend out the back door and into the parked vehicle sitting out the front of their impeccably manicured driveway. No teen was permitted to even touch the steering wheel of Susan Miller’s 2016 Honda Odyssey let alone speed it through the streets of downtown Burlington at eleven pm, and that was perhaps the most scandalous part of Max’s behaviour tonight. He had never been one to disobey authority, least of all her formidable PTA type-A mother.  

She studied the stoic boy gripping the wheel. Max had been in her life for just about six years now and was two years her senior, a friend of Carlton’s as a result being held back a few grades - the side effect of his parent’s military career that had apparently sent the family across the country several times - not a reflection of his own intellect. The kid was a genius, or so she had heard. Liz couldn't actually say she had ever heard him speak more than three consecutive sentences. The strong silent type apparently.  

Max had noticed her staring. “Tissue?” he offered, taking his eyes off the road just long enough to fish a crumpled kleenex pack out his front pocket and offer it to her.

Confused, Elizabeth cautiously reached a hand to her face and felt dampness. Tears went unnoticed in her inner fit of rage. Accepting the tissue she patted her cheeks and wiped away the totally not gross collection of snot that had pooled on her upper lip.

“Crap. I didn’t even realise-”

“It's justified"

“It's just that it's probably dumb but that thing meant a lot to me and in that house, I have to deal with A LOT and since high school has ended and I don't even want to think about college at the moment and not to sound like a complete teenager but my parents suck”

“Yeah”

“Calton means well and everything and he's possibly the best option I could have as a conservative twin brother but he's also insanely unhelpful in a time of need especially when my favourite thing in the whole world is destroyed... and I'm definitely rambling.”

“That's s****y”

Max gave a half-hearted attempted at a comforting pat on the shoulder, but the combination of driving fifteen over the speed limit and his wobbly steering meant that the resulting lurch was more of a loving slap on the cheek.

“OW!”

“Oops!”

Liz sighed and tried for a smile that was really more of a grimace. “It’s fine. This is actually the most I've heard you speak, like, ever.” She heard his gentle exhale that signified some kind of amusement.

“Not chatty.”

“Guess not. Thanks, though, for getting me out of there. I could use some time to clear my head. Just preferably without crashing my mother’s car.” she gestured to the speedometer. “Although you might be onto something there. Apt revenge and all that.”

He did the amused-nose-exhale thing again and tapped the brakes, slowing down just as they passed the MiniMart on the outskirts of town. They had travelled further than she had thought and crossed right over the other side of the town centre. Near, she realised to Blair

“How do you feel about a little detour?”

Max raised an eyebrow in suspicion, staring straight ahead.

“It’s just, my best friend lives two blocks away from here and I could reeeeally use having her with me right now. Traumatic night and all?”

He seemed unconvinced.

“She’ll shout us McDonalds if we pick her up.”

“Which way?”

She grinned and pulled out her cell, directing her chauffeur to their destination.