The Color of Darkness COMPLETE NOVEL

Sparks

There are certain moments in your life that are irreplaceable.

Invaluable.

Unparalleled.

The end of September brought about Rick's seventeenth birthday and a big, beat up old Chevy pickup from his parents. Since baseball season (the only thing that really ever kept Rick busy) didn't start until March, we were finally free to escape the usual, boring small town entertainment and tear around on backroads on the weekends. Fall was beginning to settle over Dale, nudging the heat aside to make way for a seemingly ceaseless autumn wind. Harvest was beginning, too, and every other two-lane road was jammed with a crowd of combines moving from parcel to parcel to cut corn. This particular evening Nova had called to tell me they were picking me up at sunset but refused to tell me where we were going--typical, huh?

"Dad, I'm going out!" I yelled down the hall from the kitchen, where I was hunting for a sweatshirt.

"Where are you headed?" He asked, popping his head in from the garage, wiping his brow with a greasy rag. Dad was a self-proclaimed handyman and probably had one of our neighbor's lawn mowers in a dozen pieces in there.

"Just over to Rick's place," I lied. Obviously I had no idea where we were actually going, but it was just easier not to tell my dad that, as he could be a worrier sometimes if he wasn't sure of where I was.

"You staying the night?"

"I don't know, probably. I'll call you."

"Sounds good. Stay out of trouble." I nodded, but he wouldn't let it go that easily. "I know you three are trouble when you're bored, and now that Rick has a truck you guys are twice as dangerous. Seriously, don't do anything stupid!"

"Alright dad!" I called, exasperated, as I fled out the door while pulling a grey hoodie over my head. Rick was laying on the horn in the driveway and Nova had some kind of punk rock turned up as loud as it would go. She was wearing a red flannel jacket about three sizes too big and jeans so tattered it could have been a crime to wear. She pulled her aviator sunglasses off and put them on the dashboard when I opened the door and scooted over to the middle of the bench seat so I could climb in.

"It's about damn time, slowpoke!" Rick threw his truck in reverse and sped backward out of the driveway quickly enough to make the tires screech. I cringed, hoping my dad was listening to the radio or something in the garage.

"Well, where are we going?" I yelled over the angry music. I reached for the volume knob on Rick's radio but Nova deftly swatted my hand away.

"Hell if I know! Little-Miss-Mystery over here called me right in the middle of a football game I was watching and demanded I come pick you two up!"

"Well?" We both turned to Nova, who seemed perfectly content to ignore us completely and rock out to the music, throwing her head all over the place, filling the already-windy cab with a whirlwind of auburn hair. We pulled up to a stoplight on the edge of town next to a car full of seniors headed to a party or something. They turned up their music and Nova turned up ours. They started cat calling her, and she leaned over me to stick her head out the window.

The kid in the driver's seat, a real jerk by the name of Tony, shouted something horribly vulgar that I didn't quite hear. It could have been because Nova was practically sitting in my lap, breasts an inch from my nose, but I couldn't tell you. Whatever it was caused Nova to smile her sweetest, most sultry smile and flip Tony the bird with both hands just as the light turned green. Rick gunned the engine and engulfed their little four-door in a cloud of exhaust from his ancient engine, whooping in delight the whole way.

"Rick, cut these sons-a-bitches off!" Nova screamed over the music.

"Why? We got em' didn't we?!" He yelled back.