73 Time To Learn How To Drive

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Iris~~

I wipe my sweaty palms over my thighs while Erik, beside me, drives Thomas's truck. He keeps giving me odd looks. Maybe he thinks I'm nervous since he did ask for this to be a date. He can't possibly know that it's because my uncle accused his family of being aliens and I can't bring myself to ask him about it.

Erik pulls the car to the side of the road and unfastens the seatbelt.

"What are you doing?"

"I think it's time you learn to drive."

"I would rather get to the restaurant."

He opens his door and hops down. "It's not hard."

I switch places with him, my palms sweating more. I grip the gear shift and pull back on it. It doesn't budge.

"You have to press your foot on the break."

"Right." I take a deep breath and manage to put the car in drive. I keep my foot pressed firmly on the break. Alien, alien, alien. "Now what?"

"What do you mean now what? Drive."

I release a smidgen of pressure off the peddle, and we inch forward.

I'm driving! I'm actually driving.

Ask him.

Not now.

"Could you try steering us onto the road?"

I turn the wheel, my hands sliding in sweat. We hardly go anywhere.

"Try some gas."

My jaw trembles. Ask him. I can't. I don't want him to tell me it's true. I bite my lip. "I can't do this. Just drive. Please."

"Iris—"

"Please!"

Maybe it's the tears in my eyes, or the terrified look I feel on my face, but Erik switches spots with me and drives while my conscience eats away at me to ask him already.

Erik never mentions the sweaty steering wheel.

The parking lot of the restaurant that's built in an Adobe style is almost full. It's like I thought, Thomas surely has people watching us.

I hop down out of the car before Erik gets any ideas about opening my door for me.

He comes around to my side anyway. "I saw you go off with your uncle. What did you two do?"

Okay, perfect opportunity to ask him. Except my sentence, He told me you're an alien, doesn't come out of my mouth as we walk inside. "He has an arsenal" comes out instead.

"He told me. I didn't get to see it, though."

"It's in a hole in the ground, but I also heard something about there being a hole he throws people into."

"That's lovely. Why does your uncle throw people into holes?"

I shrug, and he snorts before adding, "That's a tad disconcerting."

A hostess shows us to a rustic table outback. The tables form a square in the dirt. One side of the square has a stage where a band plays a country song. Couples dance in front of the stage.

"You aren't worried by it?" I ask after we're seated. All I can see is one of those guns being used to shoot Jonas, the bullets tearing into him, him bleeding out under the stars he loves so much.

I'm going to be sick again.

"I'm trying not to think about it tonight, because tonight you aren't Expired, and I'm not the Society."

"You mean we're normal? That sounds divine." How can I ask him if he's an alien now? How do you ask someone that? "The gun in your back pocket seems to say otherwise."

Erik's amber eyes seem to twinkle. "You can't be too careful." I don't know how he managed to steal that from Thomas, but I'm glad he has it.

After we order, Erik asks if I want to dance, and too jittery to stay seated, I say yes.

Erik places his hands on my hips, and unsure where would be the least awkward place to put mine, I settle on his shoulders, because the longer I stand here with my arms in the air the more uncomfortable this becomes.

We sway, and Erik gives me a smile, but when I don't smile back, he asks, "What's wrong?"

Here's my chance. "It's my uncle."

"The arsenal?"

I nod and curse myself. I can't even manage to form the question when he asks me himself.

Erik lets go of my hips and takes my hand. "Come with me."

He pulls us away from the seating area to behind the restaurant. We're alone. No one to watch us. No one to hear us.

Erik holds up his arm, my hand still connected to his. "Go on." He gives me an encouraging smile.

I deadpan. "Erik . . ."

"Iris."

I spin under his arm, and he catches me in them. "See? That wasn't hard."

Do it. Say it. "Erik, I need you to be honest with me," I begin. His arms tighten around me. "What exactly are—"

He leans down and presses his lips against mine.


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