Teen Idols And Happy Meals

Animal Crackers And Missed Calls

Jacen's POV

"Aren’t you going to answer that?”

I glanced down at my lap. Through the denim of my jeans I could see my phone glowing in my pocket as it screamed at me demandingly like a toddler having a temper tantrum. Didn’t it know that was my job?

“No,” I decided.

“Why not?” Pat asked, glancing at me.

“Eyes on the road dipshit,” I snapped at him. He knew how much I hated being a passenger. I spent most of my life sitting in the backseat while a professional driver chauffeured me around. I hardly trusted Pat’s short attention span behind the wheel.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shifting his attention back to the road just as my phone went to voicemail. A moment later it beeped to let me know I had a message I was never going to listen to.

“So,” Pat began again, “Why didn’t you answer?”

“Cause I know who it is,” I answered vaguely, gazing out the window. All I could really see was my own reflection, obscured by passing lights. Even if I had been able to see anything, I knew it wouldn’t give me a better understanding of my surroundings.

“Where the fuck is this place anyway?” I demanded, changing the subject, “We’ve been driving forever.”

“It’s been like twenty minutes.”

“Yeah well,” I scoffed, aware that my argument was invalid but still refusing to yield. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Just relax,” he soothed, his gaze flickering to me as he blew blatantly through a stop sign. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Assuming you don’t get us killed first,” I muttered. “That’s the second stop sign you blew.”

“Is Jacen Sage seriously giving me driving advice? The same Jacen Sage that crashed his Ferrari because he was too busy getting head from Isabel to look at the fucking road. And let's not forget the time you drove your motorcycle off a two story building and into a swimming pool,” Pat reminded me with painstaking emphasis on the nouns. “And now you’re giving me advice on traffic safety?” He laughed, the action causing him to swerve slightly. “Yeah right dude.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, scratching at my neck anxiously. My phone was quiet for now but I knew it wouldn’t be long before it would blare again and it would be her on the other end. The idea of hearing her voice made my skin crawl. I exhaled in an annoyed, petulant manner, attempting to get more comfortable in my seat but it was impossible. I was too agitated to sit still.

“By the looks of it,” Pat began again. He was unphased by my brush off. “You need this more than I do. You’ve been getting edgier and edgier by the day.”

Before I could even answer, there it was again; my fucking phone, blaring away like a siren once again. “Oh my God,” I groaned, angrily flinging my head back against the headrest, “If she calls one more time I’m throwing this fucking phone out the window.”

Pat shot me a skeptical look that I caught. “Is Rosalyn really giving you that much trouble?”

I sighed, dragging a hand over my eyes in an attempt to block out the flashing lights of traffic and the world in general. “It’s not Rosalyn.”

Judging by his tone, he was surprised. “Then who is it?” he wondered curiously.

I didn’t uncover my eyes. “My mother.”

There was a long pause. The sound of the air conditioning rattling out a cool, unnecessary breeze and the hum of the engine were the only audible sounds. “You . . . you don’t get along with your parents right?” he said tentatively. He knew it was a touchy subject, not because I had said as much, but because I’d never said anything. In fact, I’d gone to great lengths to avoid talking about my family.