I reluctantly handed my keys over to Darius and the moment I gave them to him, I started to second-guess my decision. He was rich and well-off and he had a bike that was probably worth more than everything I owned, while I drove a beat-down car that I had bought from a sleazy junkie in the city because he needed his next fix. I instantly wanted to take my keys back but Darius would not give them to me.
I expected him to frown when he saw my car but he simply got in the driver’s side. He looked so small inside of it and I briefly wondered if he had ever owned anything like it before. He seemed more like the kind of man to drive a race car or a huge jeep and not the hunk of metal that I called a car but he never complained. He sat in the car as if he owned it and drove it without a single complaint.
The entire ride home was terse and silent. I could not help but glance at Darius out of the corner of my eye throughout. I knew he noticed because every few minutes he would shake his head