Unremembered (Unremembered #1)(54)

But for some reason, she’s not wearing a shirt with it. Just the skirt, a white belt – presumably the one her friend recommended – and a bra.

I shake my head in bemusement, wondering if I’ll ever understand normal teenagers.

‘Are you looking for someone in particular?’ I ask Cody.

‘Yeah,’ he mumbles, his tone becoming instantly more hostile. He lifts the brim of a baseball cap off a person who’s asleep on the dining-room table and calls out, ‘Aha! Here he is.’

‘Who?’ I ask, making my way over and studying the guy’s features. He doesn’t look familiar.

‘Trevor Stoltz. The biggest jerkwad of them all. And also the richest.’

Cody leans in close to Trevor’s face and then grimaces, as though he’s just smelt something extremely unpleasant. ‘Not so tough now, are you, Trevor?’ He pronounces the name with unmistakable disgust.

‘I’m sorry,’ Zen says, taking a step forward. ‘But how exactly is this going to help us get a car?’

Cody’s tongue hangs out of his mouth as he concentrates hard on digging his hand deep into the pocket of Trevor’s jeans. Trevor doesn’t even flinch. Apparently alcohol is a very strong deactivator.

A moment later he withdraws a set of keys and dangles them high in the air. ‘Trevor Stoltz’s very expensive and very fast Porsche. A gift from Daddy. His favourite pastime is to chase middle-schoolers down the street in it.’

I look from Zen to Cody. ‘Are you sure about this?’

Cody just shrugs. ‘The guy has been tormenting me for years. He owes me one.’

Zen and I follow Cody out of the sleeping house. The driveway is filled with cars but it’s easy to spot the one that goes with these keys. I don’t even know what a Porsche is, but the bright red, sporty-looking vehicle parked crookedly on the lawn immediately jumps out at me. It’s the only one I would describe as ‘expensive and fast’. The thing just looks fast.

Zen jabs at a button on the keys and the headlights of the car flash. He hurries to the driver’s-side door and yanks it open, plopping down in the seat. He sticks the key in the ignition and then his entire body sags in disappointment.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘This is a manual transmission. I don’t know how to drive this.’ Zen closes his eyes, then bangs his hand against the steering wheel.

I touch his arm. ‘It’s OK. We’ll figure something out. Maybe we can find another car somewhere.’

He shakes his head. ‘No, there’s no time.’ He swiftly reaches across the console and opens a compartment on the passenger side. ‘You’ll have to drive.’

‘Me?’ I ask, watching in horror as he pulls out a shiny, rectangular booklet.

He hands it to me and gets out of the car, gesturing to the now-empty driver’s seat. ‘Come on. Get behind the wheel. Hurry.’

I’m completely perplexed by his directive but I reluctantly grip the booklet in my hand and lower myself into the driver’s seat while Zen runs around to the passenger side.

‘But,’ I protest as soon as he sits down, ‘I don’t know how to drive.’

He nods towards the book in my hand. ‘Not yet anyway.’

I stare at him in bewilderment. ‘What are you talking about?’

Cody sticks his head in my open door. ‘What’s the matter? Why aren’t you guys leaving?’

Zen holds up a hand to quiet him. ‘It’s fine. She’s just getting a little crash course in driving.’

I toss the booklet into Zen’s lap as though it was red-hot and burning my skin. ‘No. I’ve never driven before.’

‘Sera,’ he warns, handing it back, ‘it’s the quickest way to get out of here. It’ll take too long for me to figure out how to drive a stick shift. You can learn in a matter of seconds.’

‘Sera?’ Cody repeats. ‘Is that your real name?’

I shrug. ‘I suppose so.’

He nods approvingly. ‘I like it.’

Zen groans. ‘That’s very nice but we really don’t have time for this. Sera, just read it!’

‘But,’ I protest again, flipping through the booklet from beginning to end. The pages fan by in a blur. There are over three hundred of them. ‘It’s going to take me hours to read this. Let alone understand it all. I can’t simply—’

I freeze, my voice coming to a dead halt. The booklet drops into my lap as an explosion of images crashes into my mind, shaking my entire body.

I don’t know how it’s possible but I suddenly know exactly what to do. My limbs act entirely on their own. My right foot thrusts down hard on the brake while my left foot depresses the clutch.

Wait a minute, what’s a clutch?

The voice in my head answers before I even finish asking the question.

It’s the pedal that engages the transmission.

My arms move next. Without my brain even having to tell them what to do. My left hand grasps the steering wheel while my right hand turns the key in the ignition and swiftly manoeuvres the gearshift into first gear.

Terrified by my involuntary actions, I throw both my hands in the air and pull my feet from the pedals. The car jerks violently, tossing my head back into the seat, and the engine sputters and stalls.