Driver's Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

explosive. “Riding with me is a crazy idea, that’s true.”
    Kirsten realized something. “Do you have a license?”
    â€œYeah. I turned seventeen in June, and I took my test this summer. Mr. Busk’s an old buddy—well, he was, anyway—and he gave me free private lessons.”
    â€œLucky you.”
    â€œHe had to. He owed me a favor.”
    Rob didn’t explain. Kirsten had the strong feeling she shouldn’t pursue it.
    They rode silently down Anchor Street, until Rob pulled up into Kirsten’s driveway. “Well, nice getting to know you,” he said.
    â€œMe, too.” Kirsten squeezed the door handle, then stopped. “Hey, how did you know where I lived?”
    â€œOh! Uh …” A look flashed across Rob’s face, blank and inward. Then, slowly, he turned away with a sheepish smile. “I saw you out front … last week, mowing the lawn. I guess you stayed in my mind.”
    Kirsten felt herself turning hot. He was lying—well, sort of. She had never mowed this lawn. But what was the difference? He probably saw her doing something else. “Well, thanks for the ride,” she said, squeezing the door handle to let herself out. “Um, I’d invite you in, but no one’s home.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” Rob’s eyes lit up.
    Kirsten felt a jolt of fear. Why did you say that, you fool? she said to herself. You don’t know him. You don’t know what he wants.
    â€œThen let’s switch,” Rob added.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œSwitch. You drive and I coach.”
    â€œOh, I don’t know… .”
    â€œWhy not? You don’t want to go into an empty house, right? Besides, I’m a better teacher than Mr. Busk.”
    â€œI’m sure you are, but I stink, Rob. I already crashed my dad’s car.”
    Rob quickly got out and walked around to the passenger side. “May I have your jacket, please?” he asked in a mock British accent.
    Coming from Rob, this sounded ridiculous. “My jacket?” Kirsten asked with a giggle.
    â€œIt’s warm. We want you comfortable and free to move your arms.”
    â€œOh, okay.” Kirsten reluctantly got out, gave him her jacket, and dragged herself to the other side. “I hope this car is insured,” she muttered.
    She slid in, then nervously went through each necessary step: Put on seat belt. Adjust mirrors. Pump the gas a few times. Start engine.
    Rawwwr … rawwwr … rawwwr… . It wouldn’t catch.
    â€œUh, you flooded the engine,” Rob said. “You gave it too much gas. Try starting it with your foot off the gas.”
    Kirsten did what he said, and the engine started perfectly. Immediately she began backing up.
    â€œKirsten,” Rob said softly, “always look over your shoulder before you back out. Don’t trust your mirrors.”
    With one hand on the steering wheel, Kirsten turned to look behind her as the car rolled backward.
    Into her line of vision, from behind a hedge, rode a small girl on a bike with training wheels.
    Kirsten screamed. Her foot slipped off the accelerator and flailed aimlessly.
    â€œSusan!” shrieked a woman’s voice.
    The little girl stopped behind the car and froze.

Chapter 7
    S CRREEEEEEEK!
    Kirsten jammed her foot down so hard, her thigh ached.
    The car jolted to a sudden stop.
    The girl’s mother swooped her daughter up off the bike. “Oh, thank God!” she said. “Susie, you see why you have to be careful?”
    Kirsten’s heart felt like a pounding sledgehammer. Her stomach clenched into a knot.
    â€œSorry!” the mother called out. “Thank you!”
    Kirsten took a moment to catch her breath. “If I hadn’t looked back,” she managed to say, “I would have killed her.”
    Rob nodded. “You did great, Kirsten. Now you’ll always know.”
    â€œI don’t think I can go on.”
    â€œYou have to now.