There is nothing in the world like the sensation of the wind at 75 miles an hour whipping through your hair. She can't help the wild grin on her face even as she acknowledges that in a couple more hours when they stop she's going to have the mother load of all rat's nests to work through, and she knows that with her luck she left her hair brush back in Atlanta.
For now though, there's the wind in her hair, and a burgeoning sunglasses tan, and the hot summer sun beating down on her and her girlfriends, and the open road stretching before them with the promise of vacation at the end. The stereo's pumping out "Highway to Hell," and there's nothing in the world that can stop all three of them from singing at the top of their lungs. Losing the words only meant that they'd sing the chorus extra loud, as if that would make up for it.
"Shot through the heart" came on the rotation, and K's anguished cry of "Gooooooooooooddaaaaaaaaaaammit" rang out from the backseat, resulting in the volume knob being manipulated just that much louder. No threats of physical or mental anguish could halt the gleeful singing from the front of the car. "I swear to god guys, I am going to murder you both in your sleep." She crossed her arms and glared, and all J could feel was a burgeoning sense of rightness. This felt good, going down the road with two of her best friends, music, cantankerousness and what promised to be an amazing adventure stretching out before them.
E started flipping through the tracks, and several miles later K's frustrated grumble arose once more from the backseat.
"Pick something, woman!" J and E exchanged looks, and J grinned, watching the road ahead of her.
"SHOT THROUGH THE HEART AND YOU'RE TO BLAME--"
"Oh FUCK you guys! You suuuuuuuuck."
The road stretched before them, the music blared and the wind whipped through their hair, and J thought that at this moment, there was no better place in heaven or on earth.
For now though, there's the wind in her hair, and a burgeoning sunglasses tan, and the hot summer sun beating down on her and her girlfriends, and the open road stretching before them with the promise of vacation at the end. The stereo's pumping out "Highway to Hell," and there's nothing in the world that can stop all three of them from singing at the top of their lungs. Losing the words only meant that they'd sing the chorus extra loud, as if that would make up for it.
"Shot through the heart" came on the rotation, and K's anguished cry of "Gooooooooooooddaaaaaaaaaaammit" rang out from the backseat, resulting in the volume knob being manipulated just that much louder. No threats of physical or mental anguish could halt the gleeful singing from the front of the car. "I swear to god guys, I am going to murder you both in your sleep." She crossed her arms and glared, and all J could feel was a burgeoning sense of rightness. This felt good, going down the road with two of her best friends, music, cantankerousness and what promised to be an amazing adventure stretching out before them.
E started flipping through the tracks, and several miles later K's frustrated grumble arose once more from the backseat.
"Pick something, woman!" J and E exchanged looks, and J grinned, watching the road ahead of her.
"SHOT THROUGH THE HEART AND YOU'RE TO BLAME--"
"Oh FUCK you guys! You suuuuuuuuck."
The road stretched before them, the music blared and the wind whipped through their hair, and J thought that at this moment, there was no better place in heaven or on earth.
