Ten
Kylie
“God, why is this happening to me?” I climb out of my car and cough when I see the smoke floating from the hood. A moment ago, my vehicle lurched and then sputtered. I pulled it over to the side of the road before it died.
My fingers dig beneath the hood and, with supreme effort, I hike the bonnet up so I can look inside. A mass of wires and pumps meet my eyes. It’s like I’m looking at an alien spaceship. I don’t know why I bothered opening the hood. There’s no way I’m fixing anything.
A car honks and I realize I’m giving everyone on the highway a front-row seat to my rear-end. I straighten and glower at the passing vehicle. If mama hadn’t taught me to be a lady, I would have screamed some choice words at the driver. Instead, I take my anger out on the car and kick the tire.
