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"Drive faster, drive faster!"
"I'm going as fast as I can!"
" You're driving like a freaking grandma and this car is built like a racecar! Let me drive!" I shouted, nudging Ronny in the shoulder. "Never mind, that was an understatement. You're driving like a freaking grandma with one eye and a peg leg that can only press down on the gas when she farts!"
"Ewww! I shouldn't even be following this guy if you won't even tell me why I have to follow him!"
"I have my reasons.!" I said, nudging him again. "For Pete's sake, let me drive, Ronny! Don't make me hurt you!"
"Ow!" he shrieked, nudging me back. "This car is worth more than my life, and you honestly think I'm going to let you drive this? I Love You Like A Love Song, Baby, don't get me wrong, but you are Crazy with a capital C.""Will you two girls stop whining," Gary said, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, come on! The speed limit is 45 and you're going like 20 miles per hour!" I checked the speedometer. "Correction: 10 miles per hour! Gary, tell your brother to speed up!"
Gary and looked out the window. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Gary wasn't really a people person.
"I just saw a warning sign for squirrel crossing and it's getting dark!" Ronny protested.
"There's no such thing as squirrel crossing signs!"
"Well, I just saw one so clearly you're wrong, babe!"
I started to climb in-between the seats. "I'm coming to get you!"
"Hey, hey! No! Bad, Pepper! Bad!" Ronny said, swatting me with one hand and trying to steer with the other. "Sit. Stay. BAD."
"Heeeeeeeeere's Johnny!" I shouted crazily, pinching Ronny's arm multiple times and crawling into his space.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop--ow! Pinching--ow! Me-ow!"
"Feel the wrath of my monkey bite!" I pinched him extra hard, earning a yelp that made me grin like a crazy person.
"Get off of my lap, Pepper! I don't roll that way, honey!"
I wiggled my butt in Ronny's lap as we swerved down a curvy road, nearly hitting a pedestrian. Gary kept reaching over himself and making sure we didn't come off the road. "Then get in the back or I'll start calling you Sparkles!" I threatened.
"I'll give you Sparkles, you lunatic! I bruise easily!" he shrieked, squirming into the back of the car. "If you get one dent on my car, your cute little ass is mine, Pepper Ballard! Mine, I tell you! Mine!"
"I should have walked home," Gary grumbled to the window. "I should have
I gripped the wheel with both hands and kept my eye on the black motorcycle in the distance. I stayed within a six car radius of them and bit my lip.
YOU ARE READING
How to Be Cliche (A Novel)
HumorCli·ché: a phrase or opinion that is overused and betrays a lack of original thought. Meet Pepper Ballard. Independent, single, and sarcastic as hell. Pepper fights her own battles with pride and is officially #done with clichés. Unshaven werewolves...