Stranger Than Fanfiction(59)

Mo had the strongest reservations out of all her friends—but Cash knew the exact button to push. Her hesitation crumbled at the thought of feeling like a Hollywood starlet.

“Weeeeeeeell, I suppose just a mile or two wouldn’t hurt,” she said, to her friends’ amazement. “Don’t look at me like that—you all smoked pot last night!”

Mo sat in the passenger seat beside Cash and they rocketed down the highway. The Porsche rattled more and more as it gained speed. The open air hit Mo’s face and her dark hair flickered behind her ears like a flag in a tropical storm. The ride felt like a roller coaster compared to the station wagon they’d grown accustomed to.

“Isn’t this great?” Cash called out—but it was hard to hear each other with all the wind in their faces.

“It’s fantastic!” Mo said. “I feel like Marilyn Monroe!”

“What?” Cash asked. “You want to see how fast this thing can go?”

“No!” Mo said. “I said I feel like Marilyn Monroe!”

“Okay, let’s see how fast this baby can go!” he said.

Cash punched the gas even harder and the Porsche flew down the highway at a reckless pace. They were moving so fast Mo could barely breathe let alone tell him to slow down.

“Cash, that’s fast enough!” she said.

The actor tapped the brake but nothing happened. He turned to his concerned passenger with unmistakable terror in his eyes.

“The brakes aren’t working!” he said.

“WHAT?” she said. “What about the emergency brake?”

“There is no emergency brake!” Cash said. “The accelerator is stuck, too! I can’t get the car to slow down!”

Mo couldn’t believe she had been so easily lured into a death trap. She had a panic attack and images of everything she held dear—her cat, her father, her friends, the positive comments on her fanfiction—flashed before her eyes.

“Do something!”she yelled. “I can’t die in a car crash with you! I don’t want my death to get second billing!”

“Don’t worry—I promise you’ll live to see the halls of Stanford!”

“Fuck Stanford!” she cried, and the truth spilled out of her like lava from a volcano. “I’m only going there because my dad is making me! I don’t want to study economics, I want to study creative writing! But none of that matters now because I’m about to be roadkill!”

Cash abruptly hit the brakes and the Porsche came to a stop. Mo’s crying turned into laughter once she realized they were safe. She hugged the actor in celebration.

“The brakes worked!” she said. “It’s a miracle!”

“Of course the brakes worked, I was just fucking with you,” Cash said.

“YOU WHAT?” Mo yelled, and punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could. “You son of a bitch! I thought we were about to die! What’s wrong with you? How could you do that to someone?”

“Doesn’t seem like it would have mattered that much if I wasn’t,” Cash said. “Clearly I would have just saved you from a life you don’t want. Why the hell are you going to Stanford if it’s not where you want to go?”

“I would never have said that if I didn’t think I was about to die!” she said. “Please don’t tell the others about this—I don’t want them to know.”

“Why not?” Cash asked. “They’d only encourage you to follow your passion.”

“I know—and that would make it worse!” Mo said. “It’s hard enough knowing I’ll be stuck going to a school I don’t want to go to and forced to study a subject I have no interest in. Having my friends encouraging me and making me feel like I have a say in the matter would only make it more painful.”

Cash sighed and shook his head. “What is wrong with you kids?” he said. “Of course you have a say in the matter! The only reason you’re letting your parents control you is because you’re too scared to take responsibility for yourself.”

“Says the rich and famous actor,” Mo said. “No offense, but I don’t think you’re exactly the voice of reason on this matter. I don’t have a bottomless bank account like you—my dad is in control of my college fund. He thinks writing isn’t a real profession and won’t pay for me to pursue it. I don’t want to be paying off student loans my whole life so I’ve got no choice!”

“Oh, boo fucking hoo,” Cash said. “Is that really worse than being miserable for the rest of your life?”

Mo looked away and crossed her arms. There wasn’t a single thing he could say that she hadn’t thought of a million times.

“Look, you’re right, I don’t know what it’s like to be in your shoes,” he said. “I’ve had people telling me what to do my whole life, too, so I sympathize with you. But you aren’t under a studio contract! You don’t have legal obligations to a network! No one is going to sue you for everything you have if you don’t follow their orders! Your world is as open and free as this road—you just don’t see it!”

It was a convenient perspective given their location, but Mo didn’t know what he expected from her.

“So what should I do?”