SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL, J.HUGHES

FIFTEEN

Leaning against the shimmering silver exterior of the brand new Honda, I replay the conversation with Jack in my mind, frustration bubbling up like coke zero. "So he's all like, 'You're way too sexy for the subway,'" I mimic, the words dripping with annoyance.

Thomas, his expression thoughtful, swings open the driver's side door. I cringe as my legs sink into the scorching leather seats, the sun having turned them into makeshift griddles.

"Seriously, what's his deal?" I grumble, shooting Thomas a look of disappointment as he settles into the driver's seat.

Thomas shrugs, adjusting the rearview mirror. "Maybe he's just trying to be helpful, you know?"

I shoot him a disbelieving stare. "And you're on his side too? I thought you'd have my back, not be his spokesperson."

Thomas chuckles, turning the key in the ignition. "I'm not taking sides, just trying to see things from his perspective."

I roll my eyes, feeling a surge of irritation. "Well, I don't need fashion advice from my ex. If you think he's so great, maybe you should go hang out with him instead."

Thomas laughs, the engine purring to life. "Come on, don't be like that. I'm just saying, maybe he cares about you."

Thomas considers driving the car away, but he's a bit nervous with all the car dealers eyeing us from afar until one of them motions for us to take it for a test drive. We're at this dealership because I need to buy a new car, but I didn't want to go alone, so I decided to bring Thomas along. After all, no dealer takes a woman seriously on her own.

We're on the hunt for the perfect car, but so far, none seem to satisfy me. Or maybe it's because my mind is elsewhere since the rooftop party. I mean, nothing really happened that night. Gab and I got home safely, and then Gab got into a fight with Luke over the phone all night. She said it was one of their worst arguments. But we all know those fights over text are the worst.

"I mean, maybe he's trying to be caring, but there's no need for him to be that overprotective. That's a red flag, especially since he's always making sure that I know we're just friends," I say, referring to all the times he emphasized the word "friend" over the past day.

Last weekend was fun, but maybe not how I planned my weekend to go. It was basically the Jack festival. Or, let me say, the Hughes festival. Maybe next year I'll avoid getting myself some tickets; it was at the cost of my humility.

Thomas laughs beside me as he tries out the car's features. "I think the real red flag is trying to be friends with your ex," he says, glancing at me.

Crossing my arms, I let out a laugh. He's not wrong about that, and I have to give it to him.

"See, that's really cool," he says, pointing at the dashboard. I lean forward to look, nodding along, even though I know next to nothing about cars. "Oh, and you have that too. Nice. Really, this car drives well," he adds.

I smile, appreciating his enthusiasm, even if most of the technical stuff goes right over my head. It's reassuring to have him here, guiding me through this car-buying process. Maybe I won't end up with a lemon after all.

"I just don't like the look of it," I say, running my hand along the side of the door.

"The look of it? The fuck do you mean? You literally had the most ugly car I've ever seen," he says, shock written all over his face.

I laugh as I exit the car once we're done with the test drive. Immediately after closing our respective doors, the dealer comes running after us. "Did you like it?" he asks eagerly.