Lacuna (my missing part) in Latin
Esme Davis's fast life has become stagnant, or so she thinks. Until one fateful night she bumps into him. During the day she is a science major at UCLA, but at night, she is an underground street racer with an unbe...
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Silas
I wasn't expecting her to say yes, given that it is Esme, I thought for sure she would put up a fight. The first time I asked her, she clearly didn't want to.
I wonder why she's changed her mind. Either way, I'm not complaining.
Opening the door for her, she whispers, "Thanks." And I nod in return.
Sliding into my seat, I close my door, and she looks down at her hands. I watch as she fiddles with them in her lap, and the only conclusion I can come to is she's nervous.
"Ex's & Oh's?" Esme blurts out of nowhere, taking me completely off guard.
I turn my attention from the empty highway to her face and ask what she means. She reads the clear confusion present on my face and rolls her eyes again. She's going to have to break out of that habit.
"What is that?" As soon as the question flew out of my mouth, a coy smile graced her lips. As if she knows something I don't
"It's the name of a restaurant with delicious food. You said I could pick right?"
I take my phone out of my pocket and hand it to her. "Password's 072013."
Esme gapes at me, not making a move to open my phone.
"If I may, what date is that?" I can tell she's curious to know the answer, but scared of it as well.
"The day I lost my parents." I sigh out loud, shocked that I told her so easily. "You gonna put that address in or do you just want to drive there?" I attempt to change the subject, and thankfully she goes along with it.
"It's kind of a hidden gem type of place, so yes. I'd like to drive us there."
I pull over at the closest gas station, and get out. Esme gets out too, and while we swap, our hands touch. It's how I imagine a spark of electricity would feel. When she doesn' say anything about it, I decide not to as well.
Glancing over at her in the driver seat is hilarious, Esme struggles to adjust the seat, and when she huffs for the third time I decide to help her out.
I place my hand behind the headrest and seat while she pushes the button to move up.
"Thank you." I nod in response, and Esme restarts the car.
...
Esme was a pretty good driver, despite her going 60 mph when the speed limit was 45 mph. Given our shared hobby, speed doesn't scare either of us, but I was just a little worried for the pedestrians she nearly ran over.
Looking out of the window, I see a run down building and a small garden across the street, nothing else. My entire body tenses up when I consider the possibility this could be a set-up.
Gen's sister wouldn't, she's not involved in anything.
"Are you okay?" She asks, not as timid as before, but her tone showing reverence.
