Into the Wreckage ▸ Scott McCall (3)

xxv. THE INNER CIRCLE

xxv. THE INNER CIRCLE

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The anxiety coursing through Foster's veins could be noticed for miles. Her chemo signals were off the charts, and she released a deep breath, trying to relax. The last thing she needed was for Malia to pick up on them, making her more nervous than she already was.

Tonight, Foster was seated in the backseat of Malia's new car beside Kira, and Lydia was placed in the passenger's seat. The only terrifying part in this entire mix was the fact that Malia had full reign over the steering wheel.

Foster loved Malia, really. She was aware of Malia's many talents, but driving was not one of them. In fact, Malia almost hit a bus yesterday while driving with Kira's father at the school. The girl couldn't drive to save her life, but she really wanted her license. The trio being Malia's best friends had then agreed to teach Malia how to drive.

At the time, it didn't seem like too bad of an idea. Foster knew that if they got in some terrible wreck, she would supernaturally heal, but she didn't know about Lydia. Kira, she was pretty sure, could heal faster than normal as well. Malia, too, but Lydia? No. Maybe Lydia should get out of the car. . . 

Foster glanced over at the kitsune seated beside her, Malia focused on adjusting the mirrors. The two girls shared a rather terrified look, and Kira could see the clear distress on Foster's features. Foster would be lying if she didn't say she had 911 already dialed on her phone and ready to call.

"Okay," Kira breathed, growing tense as Malia finished setting everything up. "Hands on the wheel at ten and two."

Malia adjusted her hands, pushing them up to where Kira instructed.

Malia's brows then knit together, the werecoyote questioning, "Why ten and two? Foster doesn't do that, you know? She does that thing where she just holds the wheel at the bottom with one hand." Malia then turned around, glancing at the blonde in question. "You also do that thing where you sit with one of your legs on the seat. Like a half criss cross kind of thing. You're a terrible driver."

Foster gaped, quickly protesting, "I am not!" Crossing her arms over her chest, she muttered, "I just like to be comfortable."

Foster truly believed she was a good driver. She got no complaints from anyone. At least, not to her. She didn't think she was that terrible. In fact, she thought she was pretty safe, for the most part. She only did the things Malia said when she terribly tired. Which was most often always.

Kira buried her head in her hands for a brief moment before releasing a sigh. "Ten and two, okay? Don't be like Foster."

Then, Lydia cut in. "Actually, the new recommended position is now nine and three. At ten and two, a deployed airbag could break your thumbs."

Foster just stared at the strawberry blonde in amazement. She knew Lydia was smart, but this was something else. The banshee seemed to know nearly every odd fact known to man. Did she had a photogenic memory? Where did she learn all of this? "How do you even know that?"

Lydia glanced back at the gaping girl with a small grin, musing, "I read."

Malia, still with her hands at ten and two, shrugged. "Mine'll heal."

Did Malia really want to break her thumbs? While she could heal, Foster was sure it would still be painful.

"Save your strength," Lydia offered, trying to get Malia to follow the recommended safety regulations. "And try not to destroy your beautiful new car."

Foster nodded in agreement, having to admit that Malia's car was beyond gorgeous. Malia was a new driver and had this beauty while Foster was still trying to get the last mile out of Ellen. Her car may have been a mess, but it was her mess, and she loved her mess.