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"Drive faster, drive faster!"

                  "I'm going as fast as I can!"

                  " You're driving like a freaking grandma and this car is built like a racecar! Let me drive!" I shouted, nudging Ronny in the shoulder. "Never mind, that was an understatement. You're driving like a freaking grandma with one eye and a peg leg that can only press down on the gas when she farts!"

                  "Ewww! I shouldn't even be following this guy if you won't even tell me why I have to follow him!"
                  "I have my reasons.!" I said, nudging him again. "For Pete's sake, let me drive, Ronny! Don't make me hurt you!"

                  "Ow!" he shrieked, nudging me back. "This car is worth more than my life, and you honestly think I'm going to let you drive this? I Love You Like A Love Song, Baby, don't get me wrong, but you are Crazy with a capital C."

                  "Will you two girls stop whining," Gary said, rolling his eyes.

                  "Oh, come on! The speed limit is 45 and you're going like 20 miles per hour!" I checked the speedometer. "Correction: 10 miles per hour! Gary, tell your brother to speed up!"

                  Gary and looked out the window. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Gary wasn't really a people person.

                  "I just saw a warning sign for squirrel crossing and it's getting dark!" Ronny protested.

                  "There's no such thing as squirrel crossing signs!"

                  "Well, I just saw one so clearly you're wrong, babe!"

                  I started to climb in-between the seats. "I'm coming to get you!"

                  "Hey, hey! No! Bad, Pepper! Bad!" Ronny said, swatting me with one hand and trying to steer with the other. "Sit. Stay. BAD."

                  "Heeeeeeeeere's Johnny!" I shouted crazily, pinching Ronny's arm multiple times and crawling into his space.

                  "Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop--ow! Pinching--ow! Me-ow!"

                  "Feel the wrath of my monkey bite!" I pinched him extra hard, earning a yelp that made me grin like a crazy person.

                  "Get off of my lap, Pepper! I don't roll that way, honey!"

                  I wiggled my butt in Ronny's lap as we swerved down a curvy road, nearly hitting a pedestrian. Gary kept reaching over himself and making sure we didn't come off the road.  "Then get in the back or I'll start calling you Sparkles!" I threatened.

                  "I'll give you Sparkles, you lunatic! I bruise easily!" he shrieked, squirming into the back of the car. "If you get one dent on my car, your cute little ass is mine, Pepper Ballard! Mine, I tell you! Mine!"

                  "I should have walked home," Gary grumbled to the window. "I should have

                   I gripped the wheel with both hands and kept my eye on the black motorcycle in the distance. I stayed within a six car radius of them and bit my lip.

                  So maybe following a guy on a motorcycle who I thought was Hunter Trinidad was pretty bad idea. In my defense, I think we've all had our share of pretty bad ideas. For example: ever try and fit an entire apple in a toaster? Well, don't. Don't fit an apple in a toaster. Ever try and bungee jump off of a ten foot tall slip in slide with friendship bracelet string and two fruit loops? Well, don't. Don't try and bungee jump off of a ten foot tall slip slide. How about using a couch as a sled on a massive hill by your house in in the winter whilst only wearing a polka dot bikini with a cute little panda on the bottom left corner on the bottom, a fedora, and pretending the couch is a horse and screaming, "YAH, HORSIE! YAH!"?

                  Well good, because neither have I...

                  "I think this is Hunter Trinidad in front of us and I want to kick his ass before he kicks mine, and by the way, your tank is almost empty and I'm about to burn it dry trying to get this guy to pull over. Plus, I stuck my gum under the steering wheel because it was starting to taste like paper," I blurted then, "Sorry."

                  Ronny poked his head between the driver and passenger seat, his eyes wide with shock. "WHAT!"

                  I slammed my foot on the gas, sending Ronny flying backwards and hitting the back seat of the car. He quickly clicked on his seat belt as I screamed, "Woo hoooooooooooooooo! This car is amazing! I feel like I'm driving on a cloud, it runs so smoothly!"

                  I felt like I was in Fast Five, except in my mind, Orlando Bloom was in the passenger seat feeding me black berries and both of our clothes were preferably not on.

                  Before I knew it, I was tailing the motorcycle dude, the front end of the car a mere three feet from his back tire. When we came to a light, I debated whether to just get out of the car, rip Hunter's helmet off of his head, and just kick some ass in the middle of the road. That would work, right?  "He's completely unaware of us! What should I do?"

                  "Beep?" Gary said in an obvious tone.

                  Ronny glared at me when I glanced in the rear view mirror. "Pepper, don't you dare--!"

                  I beeped the horn until Motorcycle Dude turned over his shoulder. "Crap!" I said, panicking. "Now what do I do?"

                  "Motion for him to pull over?" Gary said with the same obvious tone as before.

                  I stuck my arm straight out the window.

                  "What do you suppose that's going to do?" Gary asked. "Isn't that a signal for a left turn if you're on a bike."

                  "I'm not waving at him, that's creepy!" I replied.

                  "Wave at him so that he knows that we know him and we're not just creeping on him!" Ronny said.

                  "And then what, let Hunter kill us all before the light turns green?"

                  Ronny's face went pale. "Shit, Pepper. This guy wants to kill you and we're following him! If I get even one little scratch on this my mom will whip my fabulous ass with a wooden spoon--"

                  "That's what you're worried about? The car?" I asked.

                  "You clearly didn't think this through," Gary said.

                  "I just did. If this guy wants to kill me, I'm going to kill him first. That's it, I'm going in. Hold my weave -- I mean, never mind. I'm not sure why I said that."

                  Ronny gripped my arm. "Pepper, don't you dare leave this car! Your bloody ass is not going to be staining my seats on the way home!"

                  "We've been tailing this guy for too long for me to give up now. If I don't make it out alive, tell my parents that Trix is for seventeen year olds, not just kids." I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. "Hey! Hey, you, you, I don't like your girlfriend! Motorcycle Dude! Yo!"           

                  Motorcycle Dude looked over his shoulder again, this time going absolutely still. They flipped up there visor. "Pepper?"

                  My jaw practically hit the horn again. "DAD?!" Oh. Good. God.

                  Pause.

                  If my life was ever worthy of a horror movie, it started the moment that I saw my dad, a full grown man, dressed in completely black and riding a Harley Davidson. I mean, talk about pee-your-pants scary.

                  But that wasn't the only reason I was horrified. I was horrified that I actually thought for a moment that my dad had been Hunter Trinidad. Who now needed a pair of glasses thicker than thick and then a blow torch to burn her eyeballs out for checking out a guys butt the whole ride that ended up being her dad? This freaking girl!!!!!!!!!

                  "Dad?" Gary and Ronny echoed at the same time.

                  "Dad, what are you doing on that motorcycle?" I demanded, absolutely appalled. "What were you doing in the mall when I was there?"

                  The  light turned green. "Go to the edge of the road over there so I can yell at you!" I pointed up ahead.

                  We pulled over to the side of the road. I stormed out of the car, slamming the door behind me and putting my hands on my hips. "I thought you were at work until ten tonight?"

                  "I am, I can explain . Pepper, honey. We'll talk about this later, your friends are staring and you're screaming at the top of your lungs. And what the heck is on your face?"

                  "It's called makeup, Dad. It's not a big deal."

"Are you trying to impress a boy? You know you don't have to impress a boy, honey. You're beautiful just the way you are."

"I know, I know. Why are you not at work? Are you cheating on mom? Is there some chick with big boobs that you're banging? I hope it's worth it, dad. I hope she's a great freaking lay! I hope you two stack together perfectly like a freaking stack of Pringles!"

                  "Pepper Marie Ballard!"

                  "Don't forget to wear a condom!" I bellowed.

                  "Pepper. Marie. Ballard. You are grounded when you get home. I'm returning some items for your mother, how dare you speak to me that way!" Dad said, his brown eyes wide with horror. "Who's car is this? Did you steal it? Pepper...not again, Pepper."

                  I was still horrified. "Dad, you're old and you're on a motorcycle, and you're worried about me driving a sports car? This is a crisis. Are you having a midlife crisis? Did you find another grey hair on your chest?"

                  "Pepper, filter yourself! Filter!" Dad half-shouted, his brown eyes furious.

                  I narrowed my eyes at him. "So there's no woman with big boobs?"

                  "Your mother has the only set of breasts I would ever want."

                  I stared at him for the longest time.

                  "Too far?" Dad asked, looking at the car I had come from and eying the windshield with interest.

                  "A little. See you at home, Papa B," I said kissing his helmet. "I love you, even though you're on a motorcycle and you're as old as a stegosaurus."

                  "You're so grounded..." he murmured, then, "Who are those boys in the car with you? Since when are you allowed to drive someone else's car? A boy's car?"

                  If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was about to be over protective.

                  "They're my...friends. "

                  My dad looked at me like I had two heads. "Friends? You? Aw, pumpkin... Well if they're your friends..." He then put his helmet on and revved his engine. "I'll meet you home, ok? I have to do something."

                  I noted that he looked back at the car again, eying Ronny and Gary through the windshield.

                  "He knows," I whispered, as my dad sped away. Taking out my phone, motioned for Gary and Ronny to wait a moment I dialed my house phone again, praying for Bernard to pick up.

                  The line picked up on the eighth ring.

                  "Bernard?"

                  No answer.

                  "Bernard?" 

Oh no, Bernard had been clawed to death by Hunter Trinidad who had beat me to the house while I was chasing someone going 75 miles per hour that wasn't even him.

                  "How to Be Cliché," a deep, smooth voice slipped into the phone and drenched my ear with sultriness. "What an interesting title for an article."

                  "Sin," I breathed out. I couldn't help but be slightly relieved it wasn't the other brother.

                  "Aw, look at those wittle baby fangs on that werewolf. This is too cute. But why your underwear drawer for a hiding place, might I ask? Not that I'm complaining..."

                  "What are you doing in my house, you pedophile?" I demanded. "Where's Bernard? You didn't eat him, did you? I'll have to clean that up."

                  "Of course I didn't eat him, he's passed out on the floor because I tranquilized him."

                  "What?"

                  "You have my wallet, Pepper."

                  I felt the back of my jeans, realizing I still had it there. Leverage? Definitely. 

                  "I don't know what you're talking about. And anyways, that's the least of your worries."

                  "Oh?"

                  "I'm going to murder your furry ass...?"

                  Sin laughed.  It was dry, and he appeared over the phone to be occupied with something in my room. "Oh, right. I'm counting on it," he replied.

                  "So what's the catch?" I wondered, after he didn't say anything. "What happens if I don't get home in ten minutes with the wallet?"

                  "I'll leave that to your imagination, New Girl."

                  He hung up.

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