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Mac poked his head out of the trench, his face smeared with grease.
    I sighed. “Yeah, you okay closing up?”
    Mac shrugged. He did that a lot. It was his thing, like breathing, or picking his nose. He was a shrugger and it drove Lloyd insane.
    “Yeah, no problem.”
    I thanked him and stepped out into what felt like a thousand degrees of raw heat. The rubber soles of my work boots sucked at the hot asphalt the entire way to where Ali and Earl stood, like the ground was made of chewing gum. Sweat collected along the back of my neck and slithered down the length of my spine before soaking into my t-shirt. My jeans chaffed parts of me I did not appreciate and the longer I had to squint at the happy, unruffled couple waiting for me, the more certain I was that they weren’t human.
    Ali’s car was a late model Camaro in gun metal gray. Just by looking at it, I knew someone had put a great deal of time, money, and trouble into souping her up. Every inch of it was detailed to perfection. The hubcaps were top of the line titanium with a unique sunburst design and the chrome frame gleamed in the harsh light. Her treatment of her car made me like Ali Eckrich just a little bit more.
    “You know, I get car sick,” Earl was telling Ali when I walked up to them. “I prefer the back.”
    Not knowing Earl and his slick little antics, Ali shrugged and yanked open the door. She flipped the lever to the passenger’s side seat and sent it slumping forward.
    “Are you sure?” she asked.
    “Very,” Earl assured her as he stooped his way into the back.
    Ali returned the front seat to its original position and stepped aside to let me in. I didn’t budge. I had never had a woman open a car door for me and I was still determining whether or not I liked it, when she spoke.
    “Don’t mean to rush you, but I’m not getting any less hungry.”
    “I can get my own door,” I said, not caring how that sounded.
    It was impossible to tell with the glasses covering half her face, but I could have sworn her eyebrow lifted.
    “Will your penis convert into a vagina if a woman holds the door for you?”
    Something about the way she said it, the sound of those words coming out of her mouth when she looked like she belonged in some church choir, sent a zing of electricity coursing through me that I did not appreciate. I had worked too long and too hard to let some loony librarian ruffle my feathers.
    “Because I was raised to be a gentleman,” I stated hotly.
    Her mouth actually quirked in pacifying amusement. “How’s that working out for you, Jack?”
    “My name is Gabe,” I said with barely suppressed aggravation. “Not Jack.”
    The witch actually had the nerve to nod coolly and reply, “I know.”
    She left me standing there, debating just how badly I was willing to piss off my grandfather, and made her way behind the wheel. The sound of her door slamming shut jolted me into motion.
    Fucking Tuesdays.
    The woman drove as though there were gun-wielding maniacs chasing us. There were moments where I feared for my life, moments that were unreciprocated by the other two passengers; Earl sounded like he was having the time of his life in the backseat.
    “Do you normally drive like this?”
    She turned her head to look at me. “Like what?”
    “Watch the road!” I practically wet myself when she stomped on the brake, jerked the wheel hard right, and propelled us down a side street. “Jesus Christ!”
    “Oh calm down, Jack,” she said, clearly enjoying my terror. “I’ve been driving since I was sixteen and haven’t gotten so much as a parking ticket.”
    Yet oddly enough, that in no way reassured me.
    “At this speed, you will get us all killed if you—”
    “Well, now that you said it, I probably will!” she snapped. “Why would you jinx us like that?”
    “Jinx? What—?”
    We rounded another corner at speeds that made my stomach crawl into the back of my throat. I wanted to shut my eyes, fuck masculinity, but I