Page 18 of Break Out the Girl

He shifts gear, grinding the clutch, and we suddenly swing a hard left. Everyone rolls in my direction, crushing Aurora right into my chest as I absorb the impact against the truck wall. Despite the mayhem, I manage to get another glimpse of the ATV.

It stays on the main track and doesn’t follow us.

Thank fuck.

“It’s good, they went the other way,” I breathe, my chest still pressed flush against Aurora's shoulder.

“So is it time to eat now?” London whines. “That nice Rex gave us his lunch. Did you know the world record for pork pie eating is eighteen pork pies in twelve minutes? Laughable, right? I could eat eighteen pork pies in twelve seconds.”

“And how many beans?” Rory asks, and I can hear the amusement in her voice and feel her body relax.

“Don’t encourage him,” François groans.

“Yeah, London, what’s the world record for bean eating?” I ask, just to piss him off.

I can almost feel London’s excitement at my question, and I feel sure he is beaming right now.

“Obviously, we’re talking baked beans,” he starts, as François groans again. “So the most baked beans eaten with a toothpick in three minutes is…drum roll…guesses please?”

“Ninety?” Rory pipes up, a giggle in her tone. “One every thirty seconds?”

“Wrong!” London trills. “What’s your guess, Shane?”

I’ve never got to the bottom of why London calls François ‘Shane’.

And why he calls me ‘Burt’.

‘Shane’ refuses to answer.

But seeing as I started this whole thing, I give in. “One hundred.”

“Two hundred and eleven, can you believe it? Poke, poke, poke, poke. You’d have to hit the bean dead center or it would just slide off your stick!”

“Now that’s settled, should I share-out Rex’s food?” Rory asks.

“Please, Princess.”

I feel kind of lightheaded. It’s been a long fucking twenty-four hours.

The truck keeps barrelling along as she opens Rex’s paper sack. Rory splits his one sandwich with meticulous care.

Instead of handing my portion over, her fingers brush against my chin in the dark. I freeze as her fingertips trace my lower lip, guiding a piece of the sandwich directly to my mouth.

A sudden, fierce jolt goes straight down my spine. Across from us, I can hear François’s breathing turn sharp, like he senses our secret moment.

Fuck. I’ve such an urge to throw the other two idiots out, and just pull her onto my body.

But I don’t.

Instead, I swallow my bite of sandwich.

Wouldn’t you fucking know?

Peanut butter and jelly.

7: AURORA

The violent, bone-rattling rhythm of the truck bed finally grinds to a halt.