I drove around in my old (but also new) car for one of the first times by myself. Sure I had my license for a while, but I never really had time to put it to use. I was double parked in some old empty parking lot across from Zeke's place. I had my radio all the way up, screaming along to the lyrics. The passenger door opened and Zeke practically fell into the car.

"I can’t believe it," he spoke, anticipation in his voice as I backed out of the parking lot.

"I’m a real person now," I spoke excitedly.

"I didn’t think they gave driver’s licenses to kids who couldn’t reach the pedals," Zeke giggled. I punched him in the shoulder with one hand, the other on the wheel.

"Fuck off, you asshole!" I snapped.

"Hey, you're the one who has the fattest crush on me! I thought it would've been Mo, just saying," Zeke spoke. My jaw dropped. How the fuck did he know that? "That's right! I read your diary! Don't worry, I know I'm irresistible." I went dead silent.

"Um," I cleared my throat, "never happened."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I was right, y'know. You're not very subtle. But, I don't mind it. It's cute. Also, you thought that was a solid plan? About your birthday? You're eighteen now, it's not like it's illegal. You could've just asked. Now give me your license, I wanna see!" the upbeat energy immediately resumed as I handed Zeke my wallet. "Morgan Elizabeth Reins. God that’s unfortunate. It is going to be so nice having a personal chauffeur."

"Get that idea out of your head right now. I am not driving you around!" I groaned, knowing that's exactly what he was gonna make me do.

"Are you kidding me? Do you know how many years of me driving your sorry ass around you have to make up for?" Zeke sassed. I just rolled my eyes, scratching over the tattoo under my eye that was probably months old by now.

"I’ve got an hour and a half until I have to be at school. Where do you want to go?" I questioned, leaning back in my seat, my eyes not tearing from the road in front of me.

"I thought your school started at 8:30?" Zeke used the lever on the side of his seat to lay it all the way back and I just rolled my eyes at him, speeding up ever so slightly.

"Yeah but the first class is bullshit," I shrugged. Nobody likes fucking geometry anyways.

"I’m hungry," Zeke shrugged, pulling out a joint from his shirt pocket and lighting it. I scoffed and rolled his window down.

"Not in my new car, man!" I whined as Zeke snickered. I was gonna go into school smelling like it now.

"It’s weed, it smells good. It will compliment the new car smell," he shrugged, taking a hit, "You should really smoke this, you might relax a little bit." I shook my head vigorously. That's how my parents died. "Holy fuck. I'm sorry, I didn't realize-  Don’t you have that research paper for your music class?"

"Yeah, so?" I spoke, shaking off the previous conversation.

"Well let’s go look at some shit! To the museum driver, perfect first date! Show me the meaning of haste!" Zeke spoke in a horrible accent and I just stared for a moment. I coughed, regaining my wits.

"But I- uh- uh- fuck," I squeaked, unsure what words to speak to not sound like an idiot. Zeke just let out a laugh

"A 'friend' date," he spoke, with a bit of a shrug. I said nothing, but I nodded. I mean, how could I say no.

Hehehe... Oh my fucking god.