Seat Covers

June 11, 2008
By Meghan Smith, Bethlehem, PA

Sitting on the edge of the cheap white vinyl seat covers, Jimmy’s mom bought them for his sixteenth birthday, my eyes darted from the crackling radio to Jimmy’s bristly face to the rusty red door I was leaning against. Though Jimmy had lectured me over an over again about how one day the door would just swing open one day and I’d fall right out and become one with the inner road kill deep within my soul; I just, never seemed to listen… to him at least. I always listen to his radio, trying to decipher the words through all the ‘sound fuzz’ as Jimmy calls it.
The sound fuzz was more annoying then usual and Jimmy had just finished yet another one of his lectures about me and the damn door when I swear I heard the electric guitar intro. “Jimmy, Jimmy it’s on! Come on Jimmy, you promised…” I bit my lip as my alluring amber eyes meet his ashy grey ones, pleading non stop with my words and my eyes.
A deep frown has formed across Jimmy’s tanned face as I stare up at him, his eyes now focused on the traffic ahead of them. Jimmy bites his own lip looking at the rearview window before making his way to the edge of the road. He pulls over and comes to a stop just as I let my door swing open with an obnoxious squeak of sorts. A smile forms across my face as I let the door slam close and I hop into the back of Jimmy’s truck and climb inside the bed of the truck.
I almost giggled like a little girl walking to the front of the track where Jimmy was sitting in the cab. I bang on the roof two times and the amazing voice of Joey Ramone becomes louder as I lay down on the rusty truck bed. I hold on tightly to whatever there was around me as Jimmy pulls back onto the road and floors it.
God, it’s such a rush. Maybe not as amazing as standing, but after reading Perks and then trying to reenact that certain point in the book, and then spending the night in the city jail explaining to the lovely police men that Jimmy and I were not under the influence of any illegal substances… we realized something. Just lying down is a lot easier.
We know that we could still get in trouble if we get caught doing this whenever our song comes on over the radio, but we don’t care. We’re young and for some reason in love with each other, and that’s all that really matters. I smile whenever these thoughts run through my head, like now.
As I chip the decaying red paint of the bottom of the truck bed knowing sooner or later that the song would end and Jimmy will pull over again and climb into the back and just hold me for a little letting the song’s clear message embody us… then Jimmy will notice the chipped paint and lecture me once again on how important the damn truck is to him.
Jimmy will lead me to the edge of the truck bed and jump down first before pulling me out so I don’t jump and hurt myself like I did two years ago when Jimmy first got the old clunker. Jimmy will go around to my side of the car and open it for me, still lecturing about how special his truck is and how old; old enough to be more vintage then your clothes, is what Jimmy said to me once.
I’ll smile once again as the cool feel of the cheap white vinyl seat covers creeps up and down my bare legs as I fold them under me. Jimmy will soon appear next to me, enjoying the silence as I think to myself for about the billionth time… What a wonderful world…

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