Even 17-Year-Old Girls Can Do This (For Tree Line)

     "If you hit that pole one more time, Slate will kill you."

     "I know what I’m doing," Nathan yelled at Jack, who sat slumped in the passenger’s seat of Slate’s beloved Viper. He turned back to the road, hands tightening on the wheel. "This is not that damn hard. Kitty does it all the time."

     "Not in Slate’s Viper," Jack pointed out.

     "NOT helping," the other vampire growled as he looked over his shoulder, gauging distance. He carefully eased off of the brake, letting the high-powered sports car roll gently backwards. Jack closed his eyes, ticking off seconds on his fingers before Nathan yelled…

     "FUCK!" The Assamite slammed on the brakes, squealing the Viper to a halt, his knuckles going white on the black leather. "How the HELL do you bloody DO this?!?"

     Jack didn’t open his eyes, just leaned his head back. "Let Kitty do it."

     "Again, NOT helping," Nathan muttered, yanking the parking brake on and opening his door. Getting out, he examined the area again, pacing out distance and working through the calculations in his head. This wasn’t difficult. He had seen young humans pull this stunt, so it really could not be that hard. Pausing, Nathan went through the steps again in his head. Slate had given him a very detailed explanation on how to carry out the procedure, and had gone so far as to snag one of Jack’s beloved Matchbox cars to show him on the coffee table. He paced the distance again, eyed the street warily, and got back into the car.

     Jack looked up from Slate’s CD collection, one eyebrow raised. "Gonna smash the fender again, huh?"

     "Look, if you can’t say anything helpful, shut the fuck up."

     The Gangrel shrugged, still paging through the CDs. He made a face at one, tilting the case to show Nathan. "Can you believe Slate still listens to Patsy Cline? Dear Caine…what the fuck is he thinking?"

     Nathan growled. "Just. Shut. Up."

     Jack shrugged, leaning back and mentally counting seconds while examining Slate’s questionable taste in "music." At the squeal of brakes, followed almost instantly by the sound of bending metal, he just shook his head. Nathan’s cursing took on a new intensity as he yanked the parking brake again, forgetting to put the car in neutral. As the engine sputtered and died, Nathan cursed even louder and brutally kicked the Viper’s side panel. Jack winced reflexively as the metal, not reinforced to take supernatural strength, bent inward. With his hands balled into fists, Nathan stood outside the Viper, midnight-blue eyes fixed on the crumpled fender and bent side panel. Taking a deep breath, he threw his head back and let loose.

     Bertram looked up in sudden panic, one district over, and clamped his massive blue hands over Iris’s ears. The teenager squirmed uncomfortably, glaring up at the troll. Amelia calmly lifted her head, one eyebrow raised, and looked at Bertram. Aeneas, slightly drunk, looked at the window. "What the hell was that?"

     Amelia sighed. "A profanity."

     As the battered Viper pulled up to the curb in front of the haven, Slate’s frown became a facial thundercloud. His eyes slid over the Viper, calculating the monetary damages, and then calmly walked down the steps. When Nathan crept out of the passenger’s seat, he didn’t dare chance a look at his ductus. He simply slunk past with his head down. Jack climbed from the driver’s seat, shaking his head, and handed the keys to Slate. The Lasombra took them with a flick of his wrist, and sighed heavily.

     "Didn’t manage it, did he?"

     "No," Jack muttered, turning to eye the damage done to the sports car. "I thought he was going to figure it out for a second, but that stunt is way beyond his abilities." With another shake of his head, he headed inside the Victorian brownstone, leaving Slate standing on the curb with his beloved car.

     The black-haired vampire shook his head, stroking the car’s hood. "I just don’t get it. Even Kitty can parallel park."