My Heart's in Alabama

~ Special Feature: Deleted Scene ~

The broken yellow lines on the asphalt stretch on and on. The road goes for miles with no clear end in sight. I shift in my seat, groaning as I readjust. I peel my head away from the window. I've been staring at the shadows for too long.

I turn my eyes to my dad's profile in the driver's seat. His facial features are in a tight scowl. His brows are furrowed, his eyes squinted, and his mouth pursed. I'm sure he can feel my eyes on him, but he doesn't turn to face me. He doesn't even say a word. I can't quite tell if he's mad at me, deep in his thoughts, or forcing himself to focus on not falling asleep. 

The silence between us eats away at me. I hate this.

"I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman," I say.

"Huh?"

He seems genuinely confused at first and a little off-kilter. Like how I act when Drew shakes me awake during my afternoon nap to ask me the circumference of the sun.

"The Britney Spears song. It was in the movie Crossroads."

My dad's face loosens up, the tight wrinkles of concentration melt away as his face breaks into a smile.

"Yep," he nods with a laugh. "That's the one. How'd you know?"

"Mom made me watch it too. And then I had to write her a two-page essay about it's cultural significance and connections to modern feminism."

I'm not kidding. She really did make me do that. As you can imagine, it was an extremely difficult task for a 10 year old boy who just wanted to play in the mud and fry worms with a magnifying glass.

"Yeah," he chuckles with a reminiscent smile. "That sounds like her."

It was so her. God, was it her. I had to miss football practice to write that essay. I whined, stomped my feet, pleaded with her, but she didn't give in. She marched me straight to my desk, sat me down with a pen and paper, and told me not to move until I was done. I thought I could at least get away with sneaking out into the kitchen to get snacks, but she shooed me right back into my room the second I opened the door.

What I remember the most though was how proud of me she was when I finally finished. She read it with tears in her eyes and the biggest smile on her face. She held it close to her heart and wrapped me in a death-grip bear hug so tight I thought she'd never let me go. I wish she never had.

"Check the glove box," my dad says, bringing me back to reality.

I blink back the memories and do as he suggests, curious as to what he wants me to see. The glove box pops and my eyes are immediately drawn to a clear CD case with the album art torn out and missing. I pull it closer and am punched in the face with the most aggressively Y2K thing I've ever seen in my life. Sitting in this beaten and broken case is a blank white CD smothered to death with smudged pink sharpie hearts, stars, and swirls. Right smack in the middle in bold block letters are the words Best Soundtrack EVA <3.

A sharp pain hits my chest as my brain recognizes the handwriting. This was my mom's CD. She wrote this.

Before I have time to process it, my dad snatches it from my hand and throws it in the CD player. He skips right through to track 19. The song comes on. The song. And my dad starts singing. My jaw drops. This is a man who color coordinates his underwear drawer and Lysols the Lysol.  He doesn't sing. He doesn't even mumble along to Happy Birthday at parties.

"Jesus, Dad, why do you know the words?"

"Oh come on, don't act like you don't."

I shake my head as my dad belts out the chorus.

I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman
All I need is time
A moment that is mine
While I'm in between...

He looks me in the eyes while he sings, goading me into joining. I pretend I can't. I don't know the words, sorry. You're on your own. But the sad thing is, I do know the words. Every single one.

"You're so embarrassing."

My face is getting red. I can't believe this is happening. He's being so stupid. But for some dumb reason, I can't stop smiling.

"Just one verse," my dad prods with a cheesy grin.

"No way."

"I know you want to." 

I shake my head again. I don't. I definitely don't. But at the same time, I do? My dad never lets loose like this. He's smiling and laughing and, like, having fun. My dad. Having fun. He never has fun.

You know what? Screw it.

I reach for the dial and turn the volume all the way up so no one can hear me singing to a freaking Britney Spears song.