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“You ran the plates, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah.” A look of guilt flashes through his eyes briefly.
“Jesus, Sander. Really?” I turn back to the water, shaking my head in annoyance.
“What? A random car that I don’t recognize is sitting in your driveway, and I’m supposed to just ignore it?”
I don’t respond, not sure what I’m supposed to say to him at this point.
“K, I’m a cop, and it’s my job to check on stuff like that,” he explains.
“Stuff like what? I could have had a friend over,” I argue.
“I know your friends and what they drive,” he says in that know-it-all way that he used when we were kids. He let out an oof sound after I elbow him softly in the side.
“I’m just checking in, okay? I’d kick myself in the ass if I left something like that unchecked and you or your mom ended up in trouble.”
I sigh loudly, feeling bad now that he’s put it that way. Still, it feels like a breach of privacy, and best friend or not, I don’t like him using his ‘power’ like that.
“Okay, but why even ask if you already knew the answer?” I ask, irritation tinging my words.
“I don’t know, I guess I was just curious what you would say,” he shrugs, and I shake my head again.
“You know you don’t have to interrogate me,” I say, looking out at the water. I see his head turn to assess me. “I understand that it comes with a territory now, but this is me we’re talking about. All you had to do was call and ask,” I say, turning to look at him.
He deflates a little before pulling me to his side, rubbing his hand up and down the length of my arm as if he were warming me.
“I know; I’m sorry. It’s a habit that’s harder to break than you would think,” he says.
“I get that,” I say, still not sure that he gets the point, but unwilling to argue about it.
“I’ll try to keep the questioning to a minimum then, just because you asked so nicely,” he says, flashing a cheesy grin at me before winking.
For a moment, things feel like they used to, and I relax at his side, finding comfort in his familiar embrace. Sander was always my safe place growing up.
“Thanks,” I say quietly.
“You’re welcome.”
We sit in a comfortable silence, the sun now halfway hidden below the horizon, its bright hot pink hues reflecting across the surface of the water. I could sit out here for hours. We’ve done it before, but something in my gut tells me that once the light is gone, the mood will change drastically, and that’s not something I’m ready to tackle.
“You know,” Sander says, interrupting the silence, “I don’t understand why he loaned you his personal car. Why not just pay for a rental?”
His question makes sense, and it’s one that I even wondered myself.
“I don’t know. He said that he felt bad for leaving me without a vehicle once he found out how long it was going to take for the Camaro to get fixed. He said he was only trying to help,” I explain, feeling slightly defensive.
“I get that, and don’t get me wrong, I think it was a really nice gesture. I just find it odd that he would loan you a personal vehicle.”
“Apparently, the guy has cars to spare,” I shrug, not sure what else to say.
Now that I think about it, I’m wondering if the reason he didn’t offer to pay for a rental was so that I had something I could actually race.
“I don’t like it,” Sanders says, and I whip my head around to look at him.
“What? Why?”
“It just seems suspicious,” he says, furrowing his brow as he stares out past the water.
