dedicated to Redrum_she_wrote
Les was actually a decent driver.
Even though he failed all the exams or whatever, practically he was good and this car ride towards nowhere felt like a cruise through the clouds.
Picture it.
I'm sitting in the back seat, hands resting behind my head and breathing with the hum of the engine as Les and Charlie boy fumble with the lame tunes in the car radio. I'm thinking where was my MJ tape when you needed it?
I was thinking and feeling until an unconscious Mercedes Lane rolls across the seat and falls straight into my lap. Les was gonna kill me but the view down her top was just too much of a masterpiece to keep to myself. So I reach over for the camera in the front seat and become a french photographer, light hitting the curve of her tits perfectly.
I was gonna be so popular after this.
"You asshole! Do up her shirt!"
Les' exclamation makes me jump and stop taking pictures, god damn him and his mushy feelings for this chick. I felt sorry for guys like him.
"No way Les! I mean look at us! We're three wild animals with the cruise control set at 55 miles per hour!"
I continue taking the pictures, drawing Les' eyes away from the road as he can't deny looking at the girl whos so kindly exposed herself for us tonight.
Even Charles' glasses flicker a little bit at the sight of her.
"And what is this crap we're listening to" my hand flies towards the radio, emotions getting the better of me as my best friends yell at me "I mean my parents don't even listen to this stuff."
The pictures continue, flashing flickering from the car onto the road like we were having a mini party inside the car, well at least one of us was. And, as usual, Les ruins the party he leans over his seat snatching the camera from me, getting madder as the car swerves with his every move.
"Guys!" Charles tries to yell, but he's yelling at deaf ears who're fighting instead of sitting and driving.
"Give me it!"
"No!"
"Stop!"
One out of place elbow sends the camera flashing again but instead of at some perfectly carved breasts it's in Les' eyes making him return to the wheel blind and blinking faster than the car was going at this moment.
The car swerved more than it did when Les wasn't actually in control of the wheel and every single one of us flies in whichever way the car was going.
"We're gonna die!"
We were all thinking it and I was no longer thinking about Mercedes anymore just the flying car which was miraculously staying on the ground.
I had no fucking idea how!
"I told you this was going to happen!"
"Shit!"
The car drowns in a puddle and Les swerves as he almost crashes into a car, I sweat as much as him at the damage he's doing not just to the car but me too! I could feel my stomach doing flips and the best moments of my life flicker in my head as I await my death.
I expected none of us to come out of this except of Les I hope, who would have to suffer with the guilt of murdering his future wife and groomsmen! Boy, I hope he suffers.
The car does 360s across the road, the blur of honking cars spinning in the front window much I knew in seconds would contain all of our heads trapped against the glass. But instead of our heads that we should be worried about, something made all of our heads snap together as the car started to slow down a little.
When the car stopped we were all lying on the ground out of view and when the car stopped we all rose to face the music.
A thump and like someone wrote it in the script we all knew what happened.
The screaming against the road had stopped and the rest of the cars rushed past us on the now empty road. None of us wanted to get out so I hurled Mercedes off of my lap to check, a shaky Charles following me and then Les who didn't want to see the face of the roadkill.
I prayed for a squirrel, a possum anything furry but when i reached the crime scene there was a girl lying on the side of the road lying dreadfully still.
Too still.
"Somebody check her pulse," Les stutters, eyes widening after seeing the girl he could've killed.
"You do it," Charles said.
"I'm not going near her, why me!"
"You're the one that killed her man-"
I reached her crouching to her side, instead of worrying about Les and Charles bickering I notice how her thick eyelashes tickle her smooth skin and how her blush lips were parted letting out little breaths.
My hand, now trembling reaches the side of her neck where i can feel that magnificent beat of her heart and her unconscious little groans and hiccups that she let out.
"She's alive!"
---
I never thought I'd see the day where I sat with two unconscious girls in the car.
The mystery passenger was in my arms, face nestling into my chest contently despite the scattering of cuts down the side where she was laying on the ground. Her cheekbones were very prominent from this angle, the lights from the night hitting her high points perfectly to scream them to me.
I really wanted her to forgive us after this not only from the goodness of my heart but als just so I could know her name and how her voice sounded.
I wonder if she would have a deep and hoarse voice or a light and a feathery voice like Mercedes? Does she like hamburgers? What music does she listen to? What's her shoe size?
All these pointless questions were flying around my head while I waited for her to wake up in anticipation. Please say she was okay.
The car parks to the side of the road and two girls are cradled into my empty quiet house hurriedly with Charles running behind us with lonely arms.
I rest the fallen angel on my bed as softly as I could, watching her stir at the impact. Before I knew if i was by her side again, tending to her injuries with a touch so gentle I didn't know if I was actually doing anything.
The biggest cut of all made her utter an audible wince and suddenly she was brought back into real life. Her big eyes opened in confusion, checking her surroundings with panic in her eyes. They blinked more than Les' did with that damn camera flash.
"Are you okay?"
Was the only thing I could think to ask.
She sits up, groaning like an elder at every click and stretch of her fragile body. God knows what damage that bulky car did to the poor girl.
"Where am I?" she says, voice just right and a little drowsy from her long nap.
"Oh you're in my house, I'm Dean. My asshole friend Les hit you with his car."
She laughs a little while holding her bruised side.
"Hi Dean, I'm Y/N."
And then I knew this was a story to tell the grandkids.
