twenty-nine. marry the man today

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[Dedicated to my stuffed animals...because they're extremely patient and have been there for me from day one without judging.]

"Hey, aren't you glad you don't have to drive back home by yourselves now?" blabbered Dacey as she fiddled with the switches on her dashboard. She shot me a smile through the rearview mirror, and I pouted. She totally was mocking me for my current position in the car. It wasn't my fault that I'd lost in a bitch fight with Cara for the shotgun seat.

"Oh yeah," Cara replied, running a hand through her hair, which she'd let down from her ponytail. "Ugh, it's so depressing to have to use your legs to work the car after using your legs extensively at cross country practice."

I leaned back in my seat and slung my sweaty arm over the back of the car seat. "Don't be dramatic," I told Cara. I made a face back at Dacey, who had the bright idea to turn on a country station. (I hated country.) "You don't even have to apply much pressure to get a car moving unless you wanna get your head bashed in your steering wheel."

Cara must have rolled her eyes at me, but I really couldn't see. "Shut up."

"You're mean."

"You're the one who slows the rest of us down."

"Hey!"

"Shut your traps, both of you," interrupted Dacey loudly. She twisted in her seat to face the both of us at the same time (and also endangering all of our lives while she was at it). "Cara, stop being a butt; Lottie is a perfectly great runner."

To that, Cara snorted. "A freshman completely new to running could outrun her," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

"Hey!" I complained especially loudly. "If I can keep up with you, and outrun you on the hills at that"--I wiggled my eyebrows--"I am so totally not slow."

Dacey went on as if Cara and I hadn't just continued our little fight. "And Lottie," she continued, sneaking a glance back on the road to make sure she hadn't driven over any pedestrians (so far, she'd only almost crashed into someone on a motorcycle), "give Cara a break. She probably is faster than you."

"Hey!" I called out once again. I was starting to feel a lot like a broken record now. "You're not being nice and fair, and also, I am not slow." I waved my hands as emphatically as I could. "Haven't you seen my race times? I finished in the top ten in two of the meets I attended last year. Two. Your average runner can't say that, can she? And also, because this quote applies in this situation--"

"No," my two so-called best friends groaned at the same time.

"Please," Dacey interjected. She'd turned around at some point so that now she was almost fully focused on not driving us into a pole.

"For goodness' sake," Cara drawled, rolling down the window a little. Once she figured out that the wind felt rather unpleasant (and drowned out our voices) as Dacey sped along, she rolled it back up speedily.

I gasped. "What the hell do you have against Guys and Dolls?" I didn't need to hear the two of them say anything to guess what was on their minds. "And besides, this quote is absolutely perfect, and it's from my all-time favorite character." I looked at the back of my best friends' heads expectantly. "Wanna hear?"

"No," they said once again simultaneously.

I plowed on anyway. "I think I shared this quote with Dom a while back. Once, the all-mighty smooth-talking Nathan Detroit said"--I paused for dramatic effect, even though the silence seemed to be filled with trepidation rather than anticipation--"'Everyone who hates me is now here.' Good, eh?"

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