Chapter Three: Meeting

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Chapter Three:

Sarah’s POV:

When I awoke the next morning, I headed straight for my bathroom to shower. When I said awoke the next morning…I meant the next morning. I woke up at three o’ clock in the morning gasping, panting, drenched in sweat. My mouth was painfully dry and my entire body was shaking furiously. My blue eyes were opened super wide and my face was still damp from sweat and tears. Needless to say, I had a nightmare.

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 “Knock it off, I said!” my mother screamed from the passenger seat. She glared and me and my brother for our “unnecessary roughness” and “unacceptable behavior.” Truth be told, my brother and I were playing Tennis. Not with rackets and balls, but with our hands. We’d join our left/right hands together and use the opposite to smack that of our opponent. Each time a little harder. Since we were both far too old for “I Spy…” or “The Alphabet Game”, we’d taken to playful violence as our chosen pastime.

“Calm down, love. It’s a long car ride…they’re teenagers. Let them be.” My father calmed her, holding her hand in his until she sighed and turned around, facing back to the long road before her.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say she probably inserted her bullet a little crooked…” My brother smirked quietly, the joke causing me to crack up laughing lightly tap him on the shoulder.

“I’d say you’re right.” I whispered back.

After a long moment of awkward silences, my father finally broke the tension with a friendly suggestion of turning on the radio to at least have some noise. Quietness was never a family virtue.

“What’ll it be, beautiful family? Buddy Holly, maybe some U2? Or fun? What? Fun? Who the heck names their kid fun?” My dad asked, completely deprived of the knowledge of anything modern…or living.

“It’s a band, daddy.” I giggled. “My favorite.”

“Still…fun? That name took three beers, a pad of paper, broken pencil, and a stuffy hotel room to come up with. I swear…names these days…”he argued causing my brother and I to attempt hiding a laugh. My mother was still in her grumpy mood, but my dad’s ignorance seemed to cheer her up a little. “Now…what album? Wait! Stop what you’re doing. I just found Mylo Xyloto. You’re opinion is invalid.” My dad ordered smiling. He took one hand off the wheel to insert the disk. We slid halfway into the other lane and almost collided with another car before my dad took the wheel once again and swerved us into the right lane.  “WHOO! That, my dears, was a close one.” He nervously chuckled as the first track, “Mylo Xyloto” played.

The whole track lasted exactly 43 seconds, so after we all caught our breath, the second track, “Hurts Like Heaven” was already playing through the speakers of our car. We all- yes, even my mother, around the time that “Paradise” got to the bridge, she apologized for her rudeness and smiled happy as ever- sang along to all of the songs on the album, but we ended up replaying our all time favorite “Charlie Brown” once again.

“Stole the key,

Took a car downtown where the lost boys meet,

Took a car downtown and took what they offered me.

To set me free,

I saw the lights go down at the end of the scene,

I saw the lights go down and [they’re] standing in front of me.” We all sang loudly.

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