The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 29 - Joy Ride

I jogged down the alley steps, struggling to keep up with his long, purposeful strides. The car flashed and beeped invitingly at the end of the alleyway and I obligingly hopped inside. Jeremy climbed into the driver's seat, started the car and flipped through the stations while the roof glided over our heads, revealing a very clear, very starry sky. He settled on what sounded like an old alternative rock song. I didn't think I had heard it before. He looked straight ahead onto the dark street and revved the engine loudly, almost as if to check that it was still there. The sound sent an electrifying flutter from my stomach to the tips of my fingers and toes.

"I didn't know you like cars," he smiled.

"I'm not exactly a petrol head. But I used to watch the races back home with mum. Dad even took us to Silverstone once. A client of his gave him really good tickets. It was wild."

He laughed at my enthusiasm before asking, "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't care," I answered truthfully.

He rewarded me with his heart-shattering half-smile and a devilish gleam in his blue eyes that left me breathless. He released the handbrake and off we went at a steady pace until he saw the main road. We stopped a few metres away from the give-way, even though there wasn't a car in sight. I looked at him curiously, but he didn't notice.

There was a strange expression on his face; a cross between determination and nostalgia. The corners of his mouth curled slightly. His hands were tight on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. Suddenly, his eyes caught fire, his lips released a slow breath and he stepped hard on the accelerator.

The tyres screeched as the car took off, fast and smooth. When we reached the crossing, he swiftly turned the wheel to the right and counter-steered to the left, manoeuvring the handbrake expertly. The car drifted in a wide arc, facing the wall on the side of the road. He turned the steering wheel to the right again and the car glided sideways across the tarmac. His face and eyes were focused as he brought the car to face the right way around and before I had time to breathe, it bolted forward as though we had been catapulted through space and time.

A loud scream escaped my lungs as we sped past the trees, closed shops, and lampposts. I felt the wind blowing through my hair, my clothes, my face, dragging away with it every worry, fear, or care I had been carrying around with me.

All the thoughts clogging up my brain lay scattered, forgotten somewhere three blocks behind us. Ecstatic, I lifted my hands up in the air and started laughing, my hair and cardigan whooshing behind me like a cape. I turned around on the seat and saw skid marks and smoke rising from them. I turned excitedly to Jeremy, his face focused and calm, yet looking more alive than I had ever seen him and a bubble of pure happiness swelled up inside me.

"Whoa!" I shouted into the night, my hands up in the air again as we accelerated through the tunnel, leaving Bormla behind us.

I heard his low, rumbling laugh as I sank back into the bucket seat. I didn't know what I was expecting when I said I wanted to go for a drive, but whatever it was, this was better.

It felt as though time had completely stopped, like there was nothing else in the world but us and the car. The wind and the stars. No time, no people, no hospitals, no disappointments. I closed my eyes and let myself believe that this was true, even if just for one moment.

Jeremy started humming next to me, his low baritone soothing my soul. Feeling the car slow down, I opened my eyes and found that we were at a large roundabout. I didn't recognise the place, but I didn't really care. We got onto another bypass, and we were off again, flying at God knows how many kilometres per hour, the wheels not even touching the ground. Finally, we took a sharp turn to the right, tyres screeching all the way, and Jeremy guided the Porsche into a parking area.