The Carpool Queen

[It's your turn to drive me home today. Also, remember to pick me up tomorrow morning and bring me breakfast. A bacon sandwich with two extra eggs.]

Not worried about high cholesterol, huh?

As soon as she saw I had read the message, she quickly retracted the last three texts.

Of course, I had already taken a screenshot and dropped it into our rant group chat.

[Any rich kids looking for a job? Playing alone is getting boring. Join me!]

My best friend, Cindy Smith, responded almost instantly. [How could I miss out on such a great opportunity? Do you get a referral bonus?]

[Yep. 50 bucks for an interview, 200 for getting hired.]

[Deal! We'll split it 50-50. That's enough for a dinner.]

I grinned.

Cindy did not just have a nice car.

She was a race car driver.

Since Summer loved hitching rides so much, we would let her have the ride of her life.

As expected, five minutes before the end of the workday, Summer's message arrived, [Remember to pack up early and clock out on time.]

I sent her a picture of my uncle's old second-hand car. [Mhm, this is tonight's ride.]

[?]

[.]

After work, I grabbed my keys and rushed to HR to find her, only to be told she was already downstairs waiting for her rideshare.

How boring.

40 minutes later, Summer sent me a screenshot of her ride receipt.

[38.79. Just give me 40. I can't keep expensing rides. This should be your responsibility.]

I ignored her and instead messaged my uncle. [Dear Uncle, has Summer from HR ever saved your life?]

He replied with a single question mark.

Then, I responded to Summer, [Summer, I found a friend to interview. She'll pick you up for work tomorrow morning! I'll deduct the fare from my referral bonus.]

She replied instantly, [What car? Send me a picture.]

After seeing Cindy's limited-edition sports car, she could barely contain her excitement, though she still had to take a jab at me.

[Your friend is more capable than you.]

Then, she sent an address and ordered me to pick her up at 7:30 a.m. on the dot.

The next morning, Cindy and I arrived early, waiting outside Summer's building.

Right on time, she appeared—no, waddled, downstairs, supported by a pig-like man.

Summer, acting all high and mighty, said, "Sophia, there's still time. Have your friend lend my husband the car for a quick spin. He's been eyeing this model."

Cindy snorted. "Can he afford it? There are only three in the world."

"What did you say?" Summer did not seem to catch that.

I quickly smoothed things over. "She meant, oh, you're not buying it because you don't like it."

Summer rolled her eyes. "Cut the nonsense. Hurry up, we can't be late. I have to set a good example."

Cindy shot me a look. I winked back.

Her expression said, 'Should I let him drive it?'

Mine said, 'Up to you.'

Cindy glanced at Summer's greasy, grimy husband and muttered impatiently, "Summer, you have terrible taste. I really don't want him touching my car. He'll leave grease all over the steering wheel."

Summer did not hear her clearly.

I immediately stepped in again. "She means, you're living the good life. Your husband is so handsome. Just gripping the steering wheel makes him look like a dream."

Cindy panicked. "Wait, is that what I said?!"

Before I could smooth things over again, Summer suddenly stiffened.

She protectively placed herself in front of her pig-husband, eyeing us suspiciously. "I almost forgot what kind of people you two are. Don't think you can set your sights on my husband."

Then she turned to him. "Just go home. It's not even that great of a car. If you want to drive one, we can just test drive at a dealership."

Cindy muttered under her breath, "Limited edition! Even test driving requires a financial background check. How much money do they think they have?"

I quickly clamped a hand over her mouth and shoved Summer into the car.