I take a few minutes to cool off before I go back inside and find Elizabeth. She’s standing in the foyer saying her goodbyes to her dad. I guess we’re leaving then. I offer a handshake and courteous goodbye to Richard before following Elizabeth out to the truck.

I try to put my hand on the small of her back to guide her across the driveway, but she picks up her pace to pull away from me. She’s pulled away from me before when she’s felt overwhelmed or scared. But she’s never pulled away out of anger.

This feels shitty.

“Keys, please,” she demands when we’re a few feet from the truck. I stare at her confused. “You’ve been drinking. I’m driving home.” She holds out her hand expectantly.

“I had two drinks in four hours. I’m fine.” I’m nowhere near drunk. I’m not even buzzed. But she doesn’t budge.

“Either I’m driving or I will call a cab.”

I’ve never seen her so determined. I decide this isn’t the hill I want to die on. If she wants to drive my piece-of-shit truck home, what the hell do I care? I toss her the keys and climb into the passenger seat.

Twenty minutes into the drive and she hasn’t said a word to me. She’s got a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Her eyes are locked on the road, barely blinking. She’s definitely still pissed. I can’t take the silence any longer.

“Elizabeth—”

She cuts me off with a simple, “Don’t.”

“I just want to—” I swallow my pride and try again to apologize.

She doesn’t say a word, but I’m silenced by her fucking death stare. If looks could kill, she’d be a WMD.

“This is total bullshit,” I say. I’m done apologizing now.

She doesn’t answer, eyes locked back on the road stretching out in front of us.

“I was the only one at that whole damn party who didn’t treat you like shit, but I’m the one you’re going to scream at?”

She stares at the road as her eyes narrow and her scowl deepens. The engine whines, telling me she sped up. The highway is deserted, but it’s curvy, dark and lined with trees. She’s too emotional to realize how dangerous it is to drive this road that fast.

“Slow down.”

She speeds up again.

“Elizabeth!”

It’s like I’m not even here.

“Be a juvenile brat. Sulk in silence all you want, but I am serious. You need to slow. The. Fuck. Down.”

She glances in the rearview mirror before slamming on the brakes, bringing us to a near complete stop before darting off the road. The shoulder strap digs into my chest and my hands shoot to the dashboard to brace myself.