No, this SkootCase won't ever be freeway-safe. But if you're not even allowed to the end of the block without a parent? This ride is as cool as it gets.
"Look, Alexa. It's not an Italian scooter. It's a SkootCase. See?"
"What? You thought it was a scooter? Ha ha! That's YOUR fault, baby!"
Jake sighed, still facing the mirror. None of these sounded right. But he didn't want to keep lying to Alexa about his SkootCase. If she was going to be the girl of his dreams, she had to trust him. And that meant he had to find some way to tell her the worst thing a young man could think of telling: The truth about his ride.
Dakody, of course, was against it.
"Jake, say it's in the shop. Or it got stolen. Or ANYTHING besides 'It's a suitcase that also looks like a scooter.' I mean, YOU know how cool it is to have your gear with you and I know how the SkootCase captures the beauty and style of the most Mod of all vehicles, but Alexa? She's EUROPEAN, Jake! They aren't like us! They've got KINGS!"
Jake sighed at his reflection and closed his eyes.
"Try it the other way, like I suggested."
Jake opened his eyes.
"Alexa. You're beautiful. The most beautiful woman alive. That's why I sold my scooter. To make sure nothing could come between us. I spent the money on this SkootCase instead. So I could always make sure you've got a place to put your jacket when you get too warm."
"I'm telling you, Jake," said Dakody. "That's the kind of smooth talk those European girls love."
Jake made a mental note to never ask Dakody for advice on anything, ever again.