music out.
The list read like a bad boys dream. There was Paranoid by Black Sabbath (which had
been played numerous times), Smells like
Teen Spirit by Nirvana , Enter The Sandman by
Metallica,…
“ Ah,” escaped my lips
before I could stop it.
His brow furrowed as he looked at me,
“What?”
“ One of my favorites,” I
exclaimed.
I could tell by the look on
his face that there was no way he figured I’d have found something
in his playlist that was one of my favorites. He looked at the
screen, “ Twilight Zone by Golden Earring? I don’t believe that.”
“ Oh yes, Baby,” I said with
an almost iniquitous change in tone. “This song reminds me of eight
minutes of shear heaven.” I hit the play button and gave it more
volume. I knew every word and I could see it stunned him. I dropped
the gears and pulled into the passing lane.
His eyes got bigger as he
realized that I was getting ready to take the lead from Ryan.
“Leeeese!” came the warning, but it was too late as we flew passed
the line of cars.
I just kept singing, eyes
on the road, hands on the wheel. I knew where we were headed and I
left the pack in the dust. I weaved through the tight streets and
headed for the dead end at the beach. The look on his face changed
as he listened and watched my facial expressions. The big finish
was coming and I was charged like a bolt of lightning to do
something I hadn’t done in almost two years. Daytona was back in my
mind like some happy drug. The final approach to the park ended in
a large round cul-de-sac turn around just before the big iron bar
that blocked the visitors from entering at night. I could see on
approach that the circle was empty. I dropped the shifter one more
time, looked at Evan and said, “Hold on.”
He didn’t have time to
rebut or tell me no, all he could do was grip the door with one
hand and brace against the dash with the other. It was brake,
shift, steer and we spun three-hundred and sixty degrees into the
circle.
“ Wow!” I practically
screamed out as the smoke and dust began to clear.
“ What is wrong with you?
You could have killed us both!” He had my right arm in a grip so
hard that it was painful, but I still managed to reach over with my
left and turn off the music.
“ Ow, ow, ow,” I was saying
about the power of his hold, but yet I was trying to laugh too,
“I’m sorry, but I’ve done it before—at Daytona.”
He let go, realizing he’d
put a nasty red mark on my skin. “Daytona?”
“ Yeah, you
know the race track.” I said rubbing my arm. “I told you my family
had money…” I let it drift off hoping he’d get an idea of what I
was talking about. “I was allowed to drive for the length of one
song. Twilight Zone is eight minutes long—it was what I
picked.”
“ This isn’t Daytona,” he
growled.
Just then the headlights of
the other cars came into view as they filed into the circle. I was
still trying to get the mark to disappear from my skin while
Skeeter was unlocking the gate.
He reached over, all the
anger had dissipated from his eyes as he gently stroked my upper
arm. “I’m really sorry about that.” His voice was so low and choked
that I could barely hear him.
I gave a braver-than-I-felt
smile and replied that it was okay, but I’d need my jacket to cover
it up.
He reached behind the seat
and handed it to me, apologizing once more.
“ I guess I deserved it,” I
muttered.
“ No,” he
said, his hand turning my face toward him. “You didn’t deserve to
get hurt.” He let a little grin come out from behind the pain
filled expression. “I—I just wish you’d have mentioned your
weakness for fast cars and bad music, before I convinced you to
drive.”
The gate was open and
everyone drove down the winding shell road, through the dark tangle
of pines that led to the beach area. We parked next to the pavilion
as Skeeter unlocked the rental shack and pulled out beach chairs
for everyone. Evan, Nate, and Ryan gathered
The list read like a bad boys dream. There was Paranoid by Black Sabbath (which had
been played numerous times), Smells like
Teen Spirit by Nirvana , Enter The Sandman by
Metallica,…
“ Ah,” escaped my lips
before I could stop it.
His brow furrowed as he looked at me,
“What?”
“ One of my favorites,” I
exclaimed.
I could tell by the look on
his face that there was no way he figured I’d have found something
in his playlist that was one of my favorites. He looked at the
screen, “ Twilight Zone by Golden Earring? I don’t believe that.”
“ Oh yes, Baby,” I said with
an almost iniquitous change in tone. “This song reminds me of eight
minutes of shear heaven.” I hit the play button and gave it more
volume. I knew every word and I could see it stunned him. I dropped
the gears and pulled into the passing lane.
His eyes got bigger as he
realized that I was getting ready to take the lead from Ryan.
“Leeeese!” came the warning, but it was too late as we flew passed
the line of cars.
I just kept singing, eyes
on the road, hands on the wheel. I knew where we were headed and I
left the pack in the dust. I weaved through the tight streets and
headed for the dead end at the beach. The look on his face changed
as he listened and watched my facial expressions. The big finish
was coming and I was charged like a bolt of lightning to do
something I hadn’t done in almost two years. Daytona was back in my
mind like some happy drug. The final approach to the park ended in
a large round cul-de-sac turn around just before the big iron bar
that blocked the visitors from entering at night. I could see on
approach that the circle was empty. I dropped the shifter one more
time, looked at Evan and said, “Hold on.”
He didn’t have time to
rebut or tell me no, all he could do was grip the door with one
hand and brace against the dash with the other. It was brake,
shift, steer and we spun three-hundred and sixty degrees into the
circle.
“ Wow!” I practically
screamed out as the smoke and dust began to clear.
“ What is wrong with you?
You could have killed us both!” He had my right arm in a grip so
hard that it was painful, but I still managed to reach over with my
left and turn off the music.
“ Ow, ow, ow,” I was saying
about the power of his hold, but yet I was trying to laugh too,
“I’m sorry, but I’ve done it before—at Daytona.”
He let go, realizing he’d
put a nasty red mark on my skin. “Daytona?”
“ Yeah, you
know the race track.” I said rubbing my arm. “I told you my family
had money…” I let it drift off hoping he’d get an idea of what I
was talking about. “I was allowed to drive for the length of one
song. Twilight Zone is eight minutes long—it was what I
picked.”
“ This isn’t Daytona,” he
growled.
Just then the headlights of
the other cars came into view as they filed into the circle. I was
still trying to get the mark to disappear from my skin while
Skeeter was unlocking the gate.
He reached over, all the
anger had dissipated from his eyes as he gently stroked my upper
arm. “I’m really sorry about that.” His voice was so low and choked
that I could barely hear him.
I gave a braver-than-I-felt
smile and replied that it was okay, but I’d need my jacket to cover
it up.
He reached behind the seat
and handed it to me, apologizing once more.
“ I guess I deserved it,” I
muttered.
“ No,” he
said, his hand turning my face toward him. “You didn’t deserve to
get hurt.” He let a little grin come out from behind the pain
filled expression. “I—I just wish you’d have mentioned your
weakness for fast cars and bad music, before I convinced you to
drive.”
The gate was open and
everyone drove down the winding shell road, through the dark tangle
of pines that led to the beach area. We parked next to the pavilion
as Skeeter unlocked the rental shack and pulled out beach chairs
for everyone. Evan, Nate, and Ryan gathered
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