Motive

Your Turn

~Mary Jay~

"I can't drive that thing." I stood next to Easton's car with my hands placed to my hips.

"What else are you going to drive, slow one?" He scrunched his face up in a mockingly way.

I mirrored his expression, "Obviously not that one."

"Why not?"

"I'm going to end up crashing all the way in Tokyo." I deadpanned.

"I'm gonna be in the car too, and you're not killing me. I'll haunt you."

"This is a Lexus, Easton. Which means it costed a fortune, I'm not messing your car up."

He sighed, "You're being difficult. Just put on the helmet and get in the damn car. Or don't, I couldn't care less."

God, this guy is annoying.

I snatched the helmet from him, "Choke on a peanut."

A smirk pulled at his lips victoriously as he opened the door to the passenger seat and hopped in.

I scoffed as I made my way to the other side, "Don't smirk at me like that. I'm choosing to do this, not because of you."

Just before his door shut, I heard him, "Sure, MJ."

I hesitantly made my way to the drivers side, looking over to Beck as I did so. Which was no help, because all she did was wiggle her eyebrows.

Sigh.

I stepped into the car before pulling the door closed and clicking in the seatbelt. There was a race currently happening, and another pair of cars in front of us meaning I had time.

"The helmet."

I rolled my eyes, but nonetheless, slipped on the helmet. "I know what I'm doing, asswipe."

"You don't look like it."

"Mateo. Shut up."

I heard him snicker as I clicked the helmet into place. I adjusted Easton's seat slightly as his legs were longer than mine.

"I haven't driven a car in eons." I rested my head.

"So, what you're saying is, I'm about to die."

"No. When you die, I will be the culprit with red hands. I'm just excited."

A beat skipped and there was a brief moment of silence. That was until he broke it,

"This isn't going to become a regular thing, you know?" He looked at me dead-on.

"When did I say I wanted it to become a regular thing? I'm just here to have fun, remember?"

He scoffed, "Sure."

I ignored his comment and looked out his window. Another car pulled next to us, meaning it was Marcelo's sister.

"What's her name?" I questioned, resting one arm on the middle compartment.

"Jackie."

I squinted, "That makes sense. She looks like a Jackie."

"What does that even mean?" A furrow formed between his brows.

"It means she looks like a Jackie. Her name fits her appearance."

He scoffed, "You're so weird."

"Like you're not?"

He shrugged, nonchalantly, "I'm not."

"Pft. Had me fooled."