[kavinsky's still smiling. this is nice. how easy credence is to impress. a lot easier than the last dark-haired boy that was the apple of his eye, honestly. and maybe credence will end up being too soft, too ordinary, too slow for kavinsky to want with the same deranged ferocity, but maybe that's better. kavinsky's insane, but even he knows that maybe when you like somebody so much you'll kill yourself over them, that's too much.

little does he know. little does he know!

clunk. he shuts the door, and suddenly the noise of outside muffles out to near-nothing. strapping in, he puts key to the ignition, and the car starts with a deep-throated rumble that shivers through every bone in credence's body, fucks with the cadence of his heart. kavinsky pulls the car out of park, and rolls her gently through the other kids as they move aside to let him get to the starting line. a couple other cars are there already. in here, the melody of the music is loud.] 'Mr. Kavinsky,' [he says,] is my fucking dad.

[there's so much disdain in his voice. there has to be a story there. one that he isn't going to tell. they roll up to a stop beside the other two cars. there's a girl strutting up in front of the headlights, all exposed leg and tawny tummy.] Put your seatbelt on unless you wanna die, [kavinsky says.] No difference to me, sweetheart. Last good advice I ever give you.