Love on a Learner's Permit

You pick me up in your mom's sedan. You said it's

yours, but I saw the minivan. You're wearing cologne that you bought

online. Smells like desperation and turpentine. I spent three hours on my

hair tonight. Just to sit in a drive-thru under fluorescent light. You're trying to

look cool, leaning back in the seat. But you're sweating bullets 'cause you

can't handle the heat. And, oh, my dad is

tracking my phone. He's watching the dot. And though we're never truly

alone. You reach for my hand and you hit the gear stick.