The Rest of the Story(34)

“Then I have time to change,” Hannah said, getting to her feet. “Rachel, you coming?”

They both got up and started for the door. “Back in five,” Hannah said. “Don’t let anything fun happen without us.”

This didn’t seem likely, especially considering that the moment they left, Colin and Bailey turned to each other and began talking in low voices. Their conversation was obviously private even before he reached out, smoothing her hair back with his hand, and she closed her eyes. Meanwhile, I was left with Blake and the baseball game, which had cut to a commercial.

“So,” he said, jabbing the remote at the TV as he flipped channels. “So you said you go to the U?”

I shook my head. “No. Just live in Lakeview. I have one more year of high school.”

“High school,” he said. “Wow. That brings back memories.”

“You’re a freshman, right?”

“Going into sophomore year,” he corrected me. “Big difference from high school.”

“I bet,” I said, although privately, I wondered. “What’s your major?”

He sat up a bit. “Business. Although I don’t know if I’ll actually stay long enough to get my degree. I’m going to do this startup, sooner rather than later.”

“Like a company thing?”

“Yep,” he said, taking another sip of his beer. “Me and two of my friends, we’ve got this great idea for an app. We’ve got backing and everything.”

“Like an app for your phone?” I asked.

“You got it.” He sat up suddenly: it was clear this subject energized him. “Want to hear the idea? You can’t steal it to develop yourself. We’ve already applied for patenting.”

This would never have occurred to me, but I said, “Sure.”

He muted the TV, then held up both hands. “Okay. So you drive, right?”

Already, I wasn’t thrilled with the turn this conversation had taken. “Um, yeah.”

“And what’s the one thing everyone told you a million times when you got your license?”

I thought for a moment. “Wear a seat belt.”

“No,” he said. “The other thing.”

“Don’t drink and drive,” I said.

“No.” He sighed. “The other other thing.”

I was still clueless, which must have been obvious, because he pulled out his phone, holding it up.

“Don’t text and drive?” I said.

“Exactly!” he replied. “It’s, like, the most dangerous thing for any driver, but especially new ones. So imagine if there was a way to turn off that function anytime you were in a car. Not only should you not text: you couldn’t even if you wanted to. That’s the power of I’M DRIVING. Not only can your messages wait until you get from point A to point B: they will.”

He sat back, clearly pleased with himself. I said, “Wow.”

“Right? It’s great. I mean, just imagine the market for parents, what they’d pay for that peace of mind. You can’t even put a number on it, really.”

“No?”

“Well, we’re thinking four ninety-nine, actually,” he admitted. He really did look like a little kid with those freckles. “Again, though, we’re only in the early stages. It’s going to take a lot of development, since it has to work with different operating systems and stuff. Luckily, we’ve got a programmer on our team.”

“And you’re funded already?”

“We had a connection,” he explained. “Taz, my suitemate? He’s the real driving force behind all this.”

“So to speak,” I quipped. Blake looked confused. “Never mind.”

“Anyway,” he went on, “his dad runs Hermandos Foods, which invented the Zapwich.”

“Seriously?” Zapwiches, which were like frozen calzones, had been a staple of my childhood, when I’d been allowed them. “I love those things!”

“So does everyone. Which is why they are big money.” He held up two fingers, rubbing them together. “We came up with I’M DRIVING in a programming class we took fall semester, me and Taz and our other friend Lucas. The assignment was to create an app that made something safer.”

“Like driving,” I said, as if I was a person who did this, and worried about such things, instead of, you know, driving itself.

“Got an A, of course,” he continued. “But what we were really working toward was the pitch to Taz’s dad over winter break. He loved it: totally in. So now, it’s just a matter of development, getting it up and running. Our long-term plan, though, is to be bought out so that I’M DRIVING becomes standard on all phones.”

This was more than he’d said to me all night, so I took a second to catch up. “Wow,” I said again.

“I know.” He leaned back into the pillow behind him, picking up the remote again. “It’s kind of crazy, being nineteen and knowing you’ve probably already made your first million. Definitely makes college seem like less of a priority.”

I didn’t even know what to say to this. I mean, we were well-off, as was Nana Payne, from my grandfather, who, although not the inventor of an iconic frozen food item, had also been a successful businessman. Even so, though, we never talked about money this confidently, or at all, really. It made me uncomfortable, and not just because I’d spent the day cleaning motel rooms. Although that really made me aware of it.