"Mary Janice Davidson- Adventures of the Teen Furies" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

MR. LEARY LOOKED up from his clipboard. “Red light coming up,” he said, voice trembling
slightly.

I wasn't impressed. Cannon Falls only had one light, first of all; second, I'd been driving since I
was eight. So I just kept cruising. Leary, that wimp, wouldn't let me turn on the radio so I
hummed under my breath.

“Red light coming up.”

“It's seven blocks away,” I said patiently. “On the down side of this hill. I can't even see it yet.”

“That's why I was—watch out!”

Four blocks ahead, a Ford escort had pulled into traffic. I sighed; from the back seat I heard
Trisha smother a giggle.

“It's all right, Mr. Leary.” Soothe, soothe. “I see it. And the high school is only a couple miles
from here. We'll be back soon.” You'll be safe again, was the unspoken end to that statement.

We crested the hill and I could see the lone stoplight. Sure enough, it was red. Of course, by the
time I got there, it would be green. Not that—

“Red light, red light!”

—Mr. Leary would take that into consideration.

“Do you want to get in the back seat and stretch out? Maybe pop a couple Valium?” I asked
sweetly, holding on to my temper with a mighty effort. “You're awfully pale—get your foot off
the brake!”

Leery had been riding the passenger side brake, though we were blocks and blocks from an
intersection and I was creeping along at a bare twenty-five miles per hour. Nothing took years off
a car's brakes like keeping a constant foot on the pedal, and my father had broken me of that habit
when he first started teaching me to drive. Consequently, I had no tolerance for it.

“Miss Grouper,” Leery said stiffly, after he had hastily complied, “I will not tolerate that tone
from any student.”

“You've got something against women drivers, doncha, Leary? We make you nervous, right?”

“Certainly not and you will refer to me as Mister Leary.”

“How ‘bout I refer to you as—”

“Andrea...” Trisha said warningly from the back.

“Mr. Leary,” I finished wearily, slouching low in the seat. I had whizzed through the green light
by now and the high school was in sight. Leary visibly relaxed, though his foot was inching
toward the brake again. “I'll call you Mr. Leary, okay, Mr. Leary?”