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car in front of us.
    “Sure,” he said, nudging me forward. “I figured you’d want to know what’s up with your car, since you hung up on me.”
    My car. Money. Shit.
    “Right.” I climbed into the hard seat but didn’t touch the thick metal bar that would pin me inside.
    “Has your car overheated before?” He slid in next to me.
    “Um…” I sucked in my breath when he yanked the bar over our laps. It clanked into place just before skimming my thighs. “I don’t know.” I was trapped. Stuck. Nothing else mattered.
    His green eyes combed my face, a smile playing at his lips. “First time?”
    My heart fluttered an extra beat. “None of your business.” Open mouth, insert foot.
    He ran a finger over his lips, as if it would somehow disguise his smirk. “Anyway, your head gasket blew and coolant got into the cylinder. Which really sucks, because…” His words suddenly blended together like background music—we were moving. And a really dark tunnel loomed ahead.
    But so what? This wasn’t a big deal. It couldn’t be much different from a car ride. Over a cliff.
    Screams and hoots pierced my ears as soon as the train entered the darkness. My head grew light with the jerking and bobbing, and I found myself grabbing at anything that proved I was still conscious.
    Warm hands pinned mine against the bar. The pizza had become a blizzard in my stomach. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, the dimming sky appeared above me.
    But I couldn’t breathe just yet—we were starting the climb up the track, and it looked like a hell of a lot more than seventy-five feet.
    “You almost took my eye out back there,” Sean said, his hands still on mine.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Right.” He released his hold.
    I gripped the bar hard enough to make my fingers ache. Clang clang clang . Going up this track sounded like the slow, painful winding of a clock.
    “I’ll order your gasket Monday, and we’ll get it in a day or two,” he continued. “Your car should be ready soon after.”
    We were halfway up the ramp now—maybe twenty more seconds until impact. “Uh-huh.”
    “Usually that costs at least a grand.” He sighed. “But my sister likes you. So, I’ll knock it down to eight hundred plus tax. Cool?”
    Ten more seconds. “Doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me.” I shivered as a blast of freezing air hit my cheeks. It was so quiet that high; even the squeals seemed muffled.
    “Do you have any idea what replacing a gasket entails? Look it up online if you don’t believe me.”
    “Is there some kind of payment plan?” I squeaked out just as the first car reached the top.
    Sean squinted at me. “You don’t have the money.”
    “I—I—” I couldn’t finish my sentence because my stomach was in my throat, and we were careering toward the ground.
    When the ride ended, I wished they had posted an additional warning with the height minimum: A sports bra is suggested for those larger than a B cup .
    Sean grabbed my arm when we reached the exit hallway, but I pulled away and kept walking. He blocked my path instead.
    “I’ve broken a nose before, pal,” I said.
    His serious expression turned into a laugh. “Really?”
    “Yes.” This technically wasn’t a lie. It happened during a softball game in fourth grade. The catcher’s face caught the back end of my practice swing. “Now, please move.”
    “Oh, good. You said ‘please.’ I’d hate to be assaulted by someone without manners.”
    “What would you know about manners?”
    He held his hands up. “We can talk about this in front of Bryn and Veta if you want.”
    I exhaled and leaned against the wall behind me. “Generally, payments are made after the car is fixed. You haven’t even ordered the parts yet.”
    “I need you to approve the estimate first.”
    “Fine, it’s approved.”
    His eyes narrowed. “Do you have a job down here?”
    “I’m looking.” Or I would be, first thing in the