She Poured Soda Into My Gas Tank and Smirked—At 7:42 A.M., the Consequences Arrived

and every “no” I’d said to instant gratification.

Then I heard the plastic bottle clink against metal.

Ashley stood beside my car, one hand holding her phone at that particular angle people use when they’re documenting something, the other clutching a half-empty Coke bottle. Her hair was pulled into the kind of artfully messy bun that takes longer to continue reading …