Web surfing while driving.

Talking on the phone without a hands-free setup (currently unavailable in my used economy Nissan—I was lucky to have air-conditioning) while driving.

This was one of the many topics on which my parents were a united front. “It only takes a second to make a fatal mistake, and if you don’t concentrate fully on the road, you don’t deserve your own transportation,” they often said. In unison. As if possessed by twin safety demons.

Never mind that there was barely a street in Green Creek with a posted speed limit over 45 MPH. Whatever. Since gas money was always an iffy proposition with him, it gave Qwan a chance to earn his keep.

He said, “People acting like they died.”

That wasn’t surprising. Not that breakups weren’t a thing at Green Creek High. We had couples get together before lunch and be exes by final bell. Kiera’s breakup strayed from the standard because of her relationship’s length, intensity, and effect on school morale. So, the grieving was real.

Her and Colossus had been class couple every year since they got together. There were dumb rumors of them getting married at our graduation ceremony. Like the principal’s gonna be all, “Here’s your diploma, you may kiss the bride.”

The point was people rode hard for “Kee-Lossus.”

Yeah, that was a thing, too.

I said, “Kiera post anything new?”

“Naw. Still that same Molly Sunshine mess. I been on Colossus’s account.” Qwan giggled. “He singing love songs.”

“Stop playing.”

Qwan turned his phone speaker to max, and I got a sample of some off-key screeching.

“Turn it off.” Surely that horrendous sound violated one of my parents’ Driving Don’ts.

Colossus had always been on some true romance stuff with Kiera. Flowers on Valentine’s Day. Stuffed animals on her birthday. Most dudes got clowned for such PDA. Most dudes couldn’t put you in a chokehold that’d have you sleeping through college.

When either Kiera or Colossus posted pics of them bowling, or strapping on helmets at the Go-Kart Village (always coordinated to hit both of their accounts simultaneously, maximizing exposure), mad girls would repost those joints like they were celebrities. #relationshipgoals or #BAEenvy. For them, “Kee-Lossus” was a Green Creek fairy tale.

Guys—myself included, with the couple of not-so-serious girlfriends I’d had—saw a hard standard to live up to. As Qwan once put it, “Colossus take Kiera to Outback Steakhouse, then every girl I’m trying to holla at need a Bloomin’ Onion. He must be stopped.” I agreed.

We finally got our wish.

We parked in the student lot and made our way into the building with fifteen minutes to spare before homeroom. Enough time for Qwan to cop one of the brick-hard sausage biscuits from the cafeteria (I stuck to chocolate milk, thank you very much), and for us to absorb the latest drama in real time.

I’d hoped to catch a glimpse of Kiera at her locker, but she was nowhere in sight, though a few of the more gossipy girls hovered in the general vicinity like paparazzi waiting on Rihanna.