I click in my seat belt before reaching for a lever to my right and putting the car into what I hope is drive. Then I look down at the pedals, take in a giant breath, and press my foot to the accelerator. At least, I think it’s the gas and not the brake…

I’m zooming forward. At the last second, I remember to put my hands on the wheel, and I grip it like a vise as the car lurches forward at top speed. Panicking, I lift my foot off the accelerator, and the car slows and comes to a near stop.

“Dash!” I yell at my wrist. “Help! Please tell me you know how to drive a car…”

I spot Harlowe in my rearview mirror, racing toward me on foot. I press my foot to the accelerator again, jerkily. The car begins lurching forward.

“Emmaline, pull over at once.”

“Not happening.” I grimace. “I have to get back to campus. Harlowe’s done something to Maude and the others and I have to find them.”

I see Harlowe far behind me, a speck in the distance. She’s stopped running and stands there in the road.

“Dash! Some help here?” I groan.

“According to Google, you must keep a car length of distance between you and the next vehicle at all times.”

“Dash, that’s not even remotely helpful! What do I do, right now?”

“All right. Stay calm—”

“I said, something helpful!”

“You know how to brake, I assume? It’s the pedal to the left of the accelerator.”

I try pressing on it and feel the car immediately slow down, eventually coming to a stop…right in the middle of the road. A car is approaching behind me, its headlights bright yellow in my rearview mirror. The car comes to a stop and honks.

“Give me a second.” I grit my teeth, removing my foot from the brake and placing it gingerly on the accelerator—too fast and too hard. Now we’re gunning forward again…

“Tell me how to get back to campus. Now!” I screech as I hurtle toward the next light. It’s green. “I’m going way too fast. Dammit, Dash, I can’t tell how hard to press—”

“Turn left! Turn left!” Dash barks at me.

“Left?” I squeal, sucking in a breath as I spin the wheel that way.

But I’ve turned it way too hard, and too far, and now the car’s careening far too quickly, out of my control. It’s fish-tailing, and for a split second I think I’m toast. But I manage to jerk the wheel and steer myself back the other way. And just in time too—as soon as I clear the intersection, another car races past me, inches from where I had been only seconds earlier. I hear a long, protracted honk and know I narrowly missed crashing.