Brady weaves through the large masses with ease, while I white knuckle the sides of the car. Peering outside the window, my stomach feels sick as I stare down at the slope of the mountain with a metal guardrail that wouldn’t keep a dog from falling over. Trucks speed down the hills and crawl up the inclines. The fact that they have steep gravel inclines for the trucks to go up if they can’t stop scares the crap out of me. The two-hour drive feels more like eight, and I know I’m sweating like I just ran a marathon. “Relax, it’ll be fine,” Jessa leans in, kissing me on the neck. I look at her nervously and she belts out a laugh. My hand hurts from gripping the doorframe by the time we make it to her house. Jessa’s parents walk out to meet us, and this is the first time it crosses my mind that I’m here as her boyfriend, not as a friend. The sweat from the car ride starts dripping down my face with the fear of meeting her parents as her boyfriend.
