Tiny Glitches: A Magical Contemporary Romance by Rebecca Chastain Page B

Yep.”
    Kyoko sprayed herself again, and it sounded like a hurricane swirled through the back of the Suburban. Most of the water soaked the ceiling above her head. The thin fabric sagged, then it started raining. Kyoko dunked her trunk again.
    “No!” I cried. “No, no, no, no.” I unbuckled my seat belt and twisted onto my knees. Hudson changed lanes, and I tipped into the center console. He grabbed for me, steadying me with a hand square on my ass. I clutched the back of the seat and shot him a look. His eyes remained glued to the road, but his hand lingered a fraction longer than necessary.
    Kyoko doused the left side of the roof with water. She shifted, and the whole vehicle sagged to the right. Hudson compensated at the wheel. Water dripped to the carpet in soggy splats, and Kyoko bugled her delight. I clamped my hands over my ears. She ran her trunk along the roof, sending a spray of water across her face and leaving a furrow of mud.
    I lunged over the center console again, but Hudson grabbed my arm.
    “I need to get the water away from her,” I said.
    “There’s no point now.”
    Kyoko swung her trunk, smacking into the window. It vibrated but held.
    “What’s the elephant safety rating of these windows?” I asked.
    “Substandard, I’m guessing.”
    Kyoko dipped her trunk into the bowl but came up dry. She reached for the roof and plucked the loosened fabric with the tip of her trunk. Droplets splattered me, and I lurched back, half sitting on the dash. The stain of water on the roof bloated outward and tunneled in rivulets down the ceiling toward the back door. Fat drops hammered the carpet and drummed on the leather seats. Kyoko prodded the inky ceiling, turning in tight steps to chase the rivulets. Her rough hindquarters slid along the side of the Suburban. A seat belt caught on her back leg and stretched with ominous clicks. Another shuffled step, and it ricocheted back to the plastic panel with a loud crack. I winced.
    At a turn in the freeway, Kyoko sat on the edge of the window frame. The door groaned. Hudson lurched for the electronic lock button and the locks slammed home in surround sound. Kyoko stood and shuffled until she had her back to us, her trunk pressed to the rear window, making slimy patterns in the trails of water.
    I shared a horrified look with Hudson.
    “Did that just happen?”
    He sprouted a silver top hat; Baltic Avenue draped his chest.
    I dropped my forehead to the headrest. Thanks to Hurricane Kyoko, I may have just purchased my first vehicle. My meager savings evaporated in my mind’s eye.
    A groan of leather brought my head up. Kyoko pressed her butt against the back of the second row of seats and leaned her weight into it, reaching for the ceiling again. Something popped deep in the seat.
    “Shoo, Kyoko. Get up.” I waved my arms halfheartedly.
    Kyoko raised her stubby tail.
    “Oh, shit!” My knee slipped, and I fell half to the floor. Something made the flapping sound of a Whoopee Cushion. “Did she just—”
    The fumes of her fart hit me like a slap. I coughed and crumpled completely under the dash, burrowing my nose in my elbow.
    “Was that you?” Hudson asked.
    I gaped at his innocent expression, then clamped my mouth shut.
    Hudson hit a button on his armrest and both our windows zipped down; then he cracked the next set of windows. Hot air swirled through the cabin, whipping my hair into my eyes. Car exhaust had never smelled so good.
    When I glanced up at Hudson, his eyes were crinkled at the corners. The Monopoly board apparitions were gone, replaced by an enormous fluffy white cloud with false rays of sun shining through it, haloing Hudson’s upper body.
    “Are you laughing?” I shouted above the freeway noise. This wasn’t funny. Kyoko had ruined this rental.
    Hudson’s lips twitched; then he broke into a full-face grin. Panic leaked from my limbs and I became aware of my sprawl. I yanked my skirt down from my waist to cover my thighs and shoved