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Chapter 6
What. The. Fuck?!
Is this guy serious?
I slowly release my fingers from their place on the steering wheel and reach up to brush a few stray strands of hair from my eyes.
The inside of my mouth tastes like copper. As I rub the tip of my tongue against my upper lip, I realize that I must have bitten it on impact.
Impact.
I do a quick once over and am pleased to find that nothing hurts, but my heart is racing, and my head is swimming.
Adrenaline, I think as I unhook my seatbelt. Luckily, the impact was on the passenger side, and I’m able to open my door with ease. Stepping out and keeping my footing is another thing entirely.
I hope I don’t have a concussion. I don’t think I hit my head. Wouldn’t it hurt if I hit my head?
I guess I’ll have to worry about that later.
I roll my eyes and turn to assess the Nissan parked across from me, steam escaping from beneath the hood. Busted radiator; not fun.
The driver’s side door wrenches open with a loud crunching sound, and the driver uses his foot to kick it the rest of the way before he steps out.
“Shit,” I hear him hiss as he inspects the damage.
“Shit?” I ask as I slowly approach him, arms stretched out at my sides. “That’s all you have to say? Shit?”
He cuts his eyes toward me, his chest rising and falling in quick succession.
“While you’re standing there assessing damages, why don’t you go ahead and take a look at mine as well?”
He glances past me at the Camaro and rolls his eyes.
I’d love nothing more than to knock that unsympathetic sneer right off his face.
“It’s just a dent,” he says, “an easy fix.”
“An easy fix?” I shout, my anger building by the second. “An easy fix? Are you serious? Do you have any idea what you just cost me?”
“It’s not going to cost that much to fix. Stop being so dramatic.”
“Are you seriously as stupid as you look?”
“Excuse me?” he snaps, his eyebrows bent in disbelief.
“Yeah, you must be. This goes beyond so much more than a price tag, and I haven’t even heard you pretend to offer to help pay for these damages. Not even an apology.”
“An apology? You want me to apologize for your lack of ability to keep your car on the road?”
“My lack of ability? How about we talk about your lack of ability to drive?”
He throws his head back, a loud booming laugh echoing off the elevated tracks above us.
“My inability to drive? Little girl, you don’t even know who I am?” he says, jabbing his finger in his chest as he angles his body toward me.
“First of all, I’m not a little girl. And second of all, Bodhi, I know exactly who you are,” I say, taking a step closer and matching his posture.
His head jerks back in shock as if I reached out and slapped him. It’s not like I haven’t already thought about it.
