LABYRINTH | Scarlett Johansson x Daughter

3 | girls dont date girls.

"Passenger princess duties, Marty. Give me the USB cord," I demand, holding my left hand out and my phone in my right.

The sun began to set about half an hour ago and we decided that it was probably time to go home considering New York City is not exactly the safest place to be after dark. Not when you're two sixteen year olds who have the strength of a toddler and don't care to do anything about it.

If I was on my own, I would have left a lot earlier due to the fact I would've had to catch the subway back to New Jersey which in my opinion, is scary.
Jersey in itself is much safer than New York, but you still get some pretty interesting people.
Luckily, Marty can drive and he has his own car so whenever I'm out with him, he drives me home. It's very convenient we live on the same street too.

"No, I'm playing my music this time," he declares, keeping his phone and USB cord tucked under his legs so I can't reach. At least not without causing an accident in the process.
"Please, we're only ten minutes from home," I beg.

"No."

"Yes."

"Shut up."

"You shut up first."

"Kenzie, I don't feel like listening to Musicals," he whines, pressing his foot slowly against the brake as we come up to a red light.
"Fine. I won't play musicals this time," I oblige, a hopeful smile resting on my lips.

"You're so annoying," he tells me, reaching under his leg for his phone. He unplugs it from the USB cord and passes it to me with a very unimpressed look.

"Hey, you choose to hang out with me," I remind him, connecting my phone to the radio and opening up YouTube. Yes, I'm one of those people who uses YouTube to play my music because it's free. Spotify and Apple Music cost too much.

"Why don't you just use my phone so you don't have to use your data?"

"Because then I'd be using your data," I state like his question has the most obvious answer.
"Spotify doesn't use data like YouTube does, Kenz. Use my phone," he explains, handing me the device. "Are you sure?"

The look he gives me is his infamous 'did you seriously just ask me that question' look.
The tilted head with raised eyebrows and an 'are you stupid' glare in his eyes is something he gives me a lot.

"Thank you," I speak with a genuine voice, quickly putting my phone down on the centre console and taking his instead.

His phone recognises my face ID, so I open up the app and go to the search bar to only now realise I have no idea what music I feel like listening to.

A lot of the time I annoy Marty for the sake of it (like now for example) and I have no idea what to do once he's finally given in.

"I'll just keep your music on," I tell him, sliding the device into the phone holder he has next to the steering wheel. "After all that?"
"Yeah, I figured it's nice enough of you to drive me home. You should be able to listen to your music."

"You have zero idea what to listen too, do you?" He asks knowingly, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead of him.

"Not a clue," I admit, sending both of us into a state a laughter.

When we arrived on our street, Marty pulled up into his parking space and turned off the engine.
He always reminds me to message him once I'm inside my own home which is only a couple hundred metres down from his, but he can't drop me off outside anymore because last time he did that my father saw and verbally abused the poor boy for no reason other than the assumption he was trying to and I quote 'get into my pants'.