Overdrive by Dawn Ius

Roger leaves the room. My mouth hangs open in shock.
    â€œAsshole,” Nick mutters.
    Another thing we agree on. “Epic understatement.”
    I slide next to Mat and reread Roger’s list. Maybe we can handle the Super Bee, the Camaro, at least one of the Corvettes. The Coronet is possible with the right tools. But the Aston Martin and the Shelby? Those cars aren’t rare—they’re mythical.
    Mat flops down in Roger’s chair and kicks his legs up onto the coffee table. “Guys, we’re not seriously considering this, right?” When no one replies, his jaw drops. “You’re all loco .”
    Nick grunts.
    I lean against the fireplace and tuck my hands behind my back. The stone is warm, somehow soothing. I know what the right thing to do here is—pack our bags, turn Roger in, suffer the consequences.
    â€œThere’s got to be more to this.” I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Maybe we can find some kind of leverage.”
    Chelsea raises one perfectly plucked brow. “He’s already offered eternal life support—what more do we want?”
    â€œMoney.”
    All eyes land on me.
    â€œLook, nothing is guaranteed. Paperwork means squat. Even if we can boost these cars, Roger might still send us out on our asses. And then what?” I revert back to familiar logic, my basic needs. “Cash would provide some stability.”
    â€œI don’t think that means what you think it means,” Mat says.
    Chelsea leans forward. “How much are we talking?”
    I hadn’t gotten there yet. “Ten grand?”
    â€œNot enough.” She leans back and folds her arms across her chest. “I need a paid pass into Harvard.”
    My head spins so fast I get whiplash. “Come again?”
    I don’t mean to sound skeptical, but I can tell by Chelsea’s expression it’s too late. She’s pissed. “When I left, my parents took everything away from me—my trust fund, my inheritance. I graduate next year with no hope of affording college.”
    â€œScholarship?” Mat says gently.
    Chelsea rolls her eyes. “Please. My grades have been on a downward spiral since my parents kicked me out. Even if I nailed senior year, most scholarships don’t apply for kids who move out. The only way I’m getting into an Ivy League school is if someone influential buys me in.”
    â€œWhy would Roger have any say at Harvard?”
    Her eyes search my face. “You know nothing about him, do you?” My hackles raise, but before I can eke out a response she shakes her head. “Roger donates a crap ton of money to Harvard every year.”
    â€œSo if he gets you in, you’ll do it?”
    Chelsea nods.
    Great, but she’s only one quarter of the puzzle. “How about you, Mat?”
    He shakes his head. “I think I’m out. Now that we’ve had a look at these cars . . . too much risk, not enough payoff.”
    My pulse quickens. “We can’t do this without you.”
    Fuck, I’m not even convinced we can with him.
    He gives me an apologetic half smile. “Someday I’ll track down my parents and when I do, I’ve got to be better than a thug.”
    â€œMat was adopted,” Chelsea cuts in. “He’s been looking for his biological family ever since he left the jerk that raised him—I’d want answers too.”
    I can tell by Mat’s strained expression that this is important to him. It’s a cheap bargaining chip, but I’m borderline desperate. “What if Roger could help?”
    Hope creeps across his face. “I’m listening.”
    â€œHe’s got connections. Money. Unlimited resources.” The words spill out with increasing speed. “With all of that at your fingertips, you’d be set. Right?”
    A tiny spark ignites in his eyes. “Getting into adoption records is tougher than cracking the FBI database. Maybe