lethal | hs

/08/

**please remember how much landon has been mentally harassing and manipulative to molly over the years while reading this chapter. we are 8 chapters in, so please don't be expecting her character development this early on. if she annoys you, oh well. she'll get better but she's only agreeing w him because she's scared of what he'll do to her if she doesn't**

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Molly Pierce

Nothing's worse than starting my day off cleaning up a mess I didn't even make. Landon hasn't stopped calling me all morning, I've gotten call after call, and each of them I've ignored. I've been too busy finding my way to Lethal's Garage.

It's ironic how shitty I am at driving considering how much I know about cars. I can't drive for the life of me. My sense of direction is poor, I can't make sharp turns, and backing out of parking spaces is a nightmare. That's primarily why I get other people to drive me around. I'd rather not drive at all then risk hitting someone, but today's different. I have too much pride to tell anyone in my family where I am going and Landon is the last person I want to talk to right now, so my shitty driving will have to make do.

I look down in my lap to see Landon's contact ringing me again- for the third time in the last five minutes, and out of frustration I answer.

"I don't want to talk to you," I spit out into the microphone, making sure it picks up my anger loud and clear. I hold the phone up to my ear with my shoulder, attempting to use both hands on the steering wheel.

"Molly, I'm sorry. You know how I get when I'm drunk, I shouldn't have left you," Landon groans out into the phone like he's not even being truthful with his apology. "One of the guys mentioned ditching you because you were being a bitch, and I went along with it. I promise I didn't want to, though, I was just too scared to say no."

"Great apology," I mutter in sheer sarcasm, "but because of you I'm stuck spending the rest of my week at this place cleaning up the mess you made."

"It's better than getting charged with vandalism," he comments.

"You're not helping," I slam on the brakes as I come up to a stop sign, trying to regain my senses before I drive further.

"I know, I realize that," I hear him grow slightly defensive. "I already said I'm sorry, but let me make it up to you. Come over after you're done cleaning up and we can go out for dinner- on me."

"No, I have too much to do," I insist poorly, looking out of my window to see that I've successfully made it to the place. With a relieved sigh, I struggle to pull into a parking space, and I can already tell that the place is packed.

"Oh, really? Like what?" He challenges me with his suspicion.

I turn off the car and climb out of it, giving myself a breather. I hate driving, but I'm glad I managed to make it without crashing. Once I start my way over to the two open garage doors, I immediately recognize all of the vandalism covering it.

It looks a lot worse in broad daylight, and a lot of the customers recognize that, too.

"We can talk later, but I'm not going to dinner with you," my voice lowers in case anyone's eavesdropping.

"I'm trying to make it up to you, Mols," he expresses from the other end. "Either come to dinner with me or I'll drive over to that shop right now-"

"No, don't," I cut him off in a panic. If he shows up here, that increases the chances of him finding out that I know Hot Shot, and I can't let that happen. I bite my tongue as I look around me, "I'll go to dinner with you as long as you don't show up here, all right?"