Fast Car

Sunday Morning, Rain is Falling

Scott had been miserable ever since he had broken his arm. There was no particular reason for his perpetual melancholy, except an unhealthy habit of self-pity. Kat huffed as they settled in for another afternoon of lounging on his sofa doing nothing.

'I know I said you could wallow last weekend' Kat began, 'But it's been a week.'

Scott made a 'hmphf' sound.

'Can't we go out and do something?' She whined.

'No.' Scott replied morosely.

'I know you can't play football right now, but that doesn't mean you have to cease all activity.'

'Go home if I'm too sickly to be around.' He huffed.

'Scott!' Kat said, drawing out the word in an exasperated manner. He just stared at her dramatically. 'Let's go to the beach, it's a great day.' She continued, changing her tone.

'It's raining.' Scott deadpanned.

'You love the rain.'

'My cast will get wet,' He sighed heavily.

'Fine, but we're going to the grocery store. We can bake something this afternoon.' Kat countered, her eyes lighting up with the germ of an idea.

'I don't want to.'

'Yes, you do. You love grocery shopping.'

'How will we get there? I'm not allowed to drive.' Scott stated triumphantly.

'I'll drive.' Kat grinned.

'You didn't bring your car!'

'I'll drive your truck.'

Scott looked at her, an old glint in his eye. 'You're not insured, that's highly illegal. Let's do it.' 

'Don't tell your mother,' Kat waggled her finger at him. Then leaping up and grabbing the car keys from by the door, she yelled. 'Race ya!'

There was a loud crash as Scott, in his rush to get up, tumbled to the floor in a mess of sofa cushions. This was followed by a groan. Scott didn't waste any time checking for new injuries however, and he was out at the car before Kat had got the key in the ignition.

'Be careful on the clutch, she's fussy.' Scott said matter of factly as he hopped in the cab. 'Be firm though, she needs a steady confident hand.

'Calm down Richard, this isn't drag racing.' Kat said dryly, revving up the engine.

Scott looked at her, exasperated. 'Richard Petty didn't drag race, he was...'

She cut him off, 'Scott, I couldn't give a shit.'

He folded his arms angrily.

'Just be happy I can reference a sporting legend.'

'You may as well not bother if you're not going to reference them right.' Scott chided.'

'Now now, Scotty. You don't love me for my sporting knowledge, you love me for my witty banter and my exquisite charm.' Kat quipped.

'Just be happy I can stand you at all.' 

They pulled into the parking lot of Costco, with a loud clank and an alarming rattling of the engine. This was accompanied by Kat's string of unusual swear words and Scott's screams for her to be more careful with his baby. It was a universally acknowledged fact, that Scott's truck was a piece of shit. But he'd spent months doing up the old Chevy before his sixteenth birthday, it had been his mum's, and he'd been fixing it every weekend ever since. It was practically falling apart around them, in fact, if Scott didn't show it so much care and attention, it would've fallen apart less than a week after he'd started driving it. Yet, here it was two years later, still clinging on. Kat never moaned about the state of Scott's car, her jeep wasn't in a much better condition, although it was slightly newer. Plus Kat was a terrible driver, so she was more of a hindrance than a help when it came to preserving the condition of her car. Still, Scott's truck was no fun to drive, and as they walked up to the store, Kat rubbed her sore shoulder, which she'd practically had to dislocate to force the car into third gear.