The Middleman | ongoing

45 | we're in balls deep

45 | we're in balls deep

Song: All For Me by Hoodie Allen ft. Scott Hoying

Depicted Above: Cole Sprouse as Trey Riese

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"Any reason you thought tailgating me was a good idea?" Quinn asks, comfortably leaning on the passenger door of his Benz, parked parallel to the curb right in front of my own car.

I sheepishly smile. "Whoops, I was trying to get your attention, but I didn't think you noticed me behind you... I mean it did take you five minutes of driving before you finally entered this neighborhood and pulled over so..."

"Are you trying to pin the fact that I didn't notice you following behind me in your car like some creepy stalker on me?" Quinn asks defensively. "I'm sorry that I have some faith in humanity and assume most drivers on the road are pretty sane and don't follow people on the road right after school ends like psychos," Quinn sasses, though his eyes are shining with light-hearted humor that I don't expect, especially since I rejected his proposal to be business partners this morning in the bathroom.

We're more at ease with each other than I'd expect us to be.

I roll my eyes. "To be fair, it looked like you hadn't noticed me following," I argue, defending myself. "Especially since we had a little distance between our cars and were in different lanes," I add as an afterthought. "So I decided to amp it up a little with the tailgating. Otherwise, you'd just be obliviously driving along."

"Oh, I definitely noticed alright. Why do you think I took five consecutive right turns on every signal? I don't drive in complete circles for shits and giggles, Leia," Quinn informs me sardonically.

"Maybe you thought we were in Mario Kart or something and were trying to troll me... I dunno what goes on in your head. Seems plausible." I shrug my shoulders, veering quite off topic for some one who's trying to squeeze a favor out of Quinn.

"If you were that desperate to talk or something, you could've just texted." He swipes his own phone out of his back pocket. "You know these things?" he retorts sarcastically, tapping the glass screen of it.

"Fuck," I mumble. "I actually forgot about texting you." As a teenager living in the twenty-first century, I was lowkey ashamed I'd resorted to such headass measures when I could've easily contacted Quinn via phone. "But to be fair, I doubt you woulda replied," I reason.

"Well, now you have my undivided attention," he says as he gestures around him to the park and pond we're situated in front of.

After our bizarre car chase where Quinn kept clowning around with me by his insane amount of right turns, he'd entered some random neighborhood close to our school, and he'd driven straight until he decided to park his car in front of the playground and pond erected in the middle of the neighborhood. Vigilantly, I followed suit and lined up my car right behind his, leading us to the conversation we were having now.

"I have a favor to ask from you," I cut to the chase, wincing, knowing full and well I couldn't ask for something from him when he'd done the same from me this morning, and I'd completely denied the offer.

He crosses his arms, prompting me to go on.

"You know how we'd been working on the deal with Pasey for Finn Auto, and we'd been prepping for it in our down time?" I ask rhetorically, framing the context for the favor I'm about to ask Quinn.