As his car pulls up in to the driveway, she pulls her red side door closed and locks it. Penny, the gold collie mix, sticks her black little nose through the fence. She taps Penny’s head as she turns to leave. “See you later pup, be a good girl.” She walks down the driveway towards the black jeep, looking around at her peaceful highland neighborhood. She then hops into the car the same way she always does.
Hopping up next to you I know that one song usually doesn’t last long in your car. Especially that one. Like menoma, thoughts of you brother spread like wild fire through your head. You may not have the cancer, but the thought still enough to kill you. The next button is the unreachable cure in real life, but here it changes your thoughts to a more enjoiable topic.
It almost seems as if you never want to listen to all the song in any sort of order or playlist, but randomly playing songs is something I like about riding with you. In your black Jeep Cherokee, with its no air conditioning and a disabled passenger side window. But I don’t mind. I get the feeling I’m some how being let free, form all of the past week and days troubles and we are flying away from it all with your windows down and my hair going every way possible, as we take flight on our next adventure. We may not know where we are headed, but isn’t that the best part? Finally having the freedom of not knowing where you are going. I think you get this feeling too. I think you like it as much as I do.

As you take my hand it to yours, I can’t help but to notice that your hand is bigger than mine. I like that, it makes me feel safe. Your skin is paler than mine and reflects the orange and yellow glows from the setting sun, that are raidating through the car and all round us. I can see where your side burns have planted themselves and are growing again. I wonder what you would look like if you let them grow out. I don’t think it would really matter. I think you would be cute either way. Maybe it’s the way you randomly freak out, hit the steering wheel, start singing, and playing air guitar or the way will run and pick me up that makes me laugh. Something about you has got me. Got me hooked, as you said, “like a little fishy”. But I don’t mind. Its comfortable. Theres no pressure, other than on the break that your bear foot is appling.

Pulling into the parking lot of our favorite neighborhood qudoba, she can already seem the small group of people that have planted themselves in chairs and steps for the night. People that can’t even drive yet already lighting up and stumbling around. They are here every weekend, they see it all the time. People watching could be a sport around there. But the night is still young and hardly started yet. So off they go, starting another episode of “The Grand Adventures of the Two Unaverage Teenagers”.