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Car Accident



As they entered their third hour of traffic, Seth made an announcement.

“I really need to pee.”

“You can’t be serious,” Hannah snapped, regretting insisting on driving, as she couldn’t allow herself to break eye contact with the road long enough to give him a proper dirty look. “We just passed a rest area, like, ten minutes ago.”

“Well, I’m sorry for all the trouble this will cause me.”

Annoyed silence. Then, from Hannah: “Actually, I have to go, too.”

“Are you getting sympathy bladder pains? I didn’t know you cared that much.”

“Shut up.”

“Alright, okay. Sorry. Why don’t we put on some music—”

“You know I can’t drive with the radio blaring like you have it in your car.”

“We’re not even going anywhere.”

“Still.”

Seth, forced to acknowledge the impossibility of his sister, systematically eliminated every method for delaying urination known to man. He bounced one leg, then both at once. He drummed his fingers on every surface. When all else failed, he used his last twelve percent of phone battery playing sudoku to distract him.

“Hannah, where’s your charger?”

“In the trunk.”

“Great. Who the hell doesn’t have a car charger?”

“People who fully charge their phones before they leave the house.”

“Well, can I use your phone, then?”

“Hell no!”

Seth huffed. Hannah, as the car progressed another foot: “Okay, now I really have to go. It’s actually painful.”

“Ha! Now you know what it feels like.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to think.”

“Why? You already know what needs to happen. We’re going to have to piss ourselves.” “Excuse me?”

“I’m pretty sure you heard me. Look at our options. You’re such a clean freak, you threw away all the bottles. We can’t pull over—we’re in the center lane—and we can’t just hop out, either.”

He was right. Traffic could start moving at any moment. It would be just their luck. Hannah bit her lip, searching for options to weigh.

“What if we did hop out? We could use the doors to block ourselves from view. Or you could block me and I could block you.”

“That won’t work.”

“What do you care? You’re a boy.”

“Just because I can go anywhere I want doesn’t mean I want to go anywhere. I like my privacy, too. Come on, we’re going to see Mom. She wouldn’t tell.”

Hannah rolled her eyes, but at the same time threw her left leg awkwardly over her right, forcing the extra large soda to stay inside her. Scarily, Seth was making sense. “Well, I don’t know what to do.” “I already told you what we have to do. Don’t fight it.”

“No!”

But even as she protested, her body submitted. An unwelcome memory upstaged Hannah’s attempts to regain control of her bladder and pushed itself forward. Fourteen years old, at a family picnic, and Uncle Rick’s toothy smile dropping when he notices how hard he’s made her laugh. Seth was gaping.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just... I was kidding.”

This classy story was written by Megan Fuentes, a 19 year-old elementary education major with the Twitter handle @msmeganfuentes and the blog bymeganwithmeraki.tumblr.com.
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