Car Radio

<b>Nov.22 | 6:30 pm | 21 days before the deadline</b>

Jack wasn't feeling like celebrating Thanksgiving, it was a day off where they celebrated a massacre (You know the new American dream.), and still he wanted to do something with Sophie. It would be one of the first thanksgivings that he would have dinner with someone. The idea trilled him. He grabbed his phone to text Sophie. He sent her a simple text, "Want to have dinner at my place?" Sophie answered him after some minutes, they had a simple conversation. Jack gave her his address and Sophie told him she would be there in an hour. Jack was smiling like a kid opening their christmas presents. (I don't blame him tho, this is going to be a special day for the kid.)

I mean Jack was absolutely drunk in the idea of having a girl inside his house. Not to shame him but, imagine the first time your friends came to your house, and they all were amazed and one of them asked you "Is that a flat screen?" and you felt hyped up because you were being praised for shit you didn't have. Well, he was in that hype, without having something to brag about but himself.

An hour goes fast, hella fast. Jack was fixing something in the garage when Sophie arrived. And my boy was fast runner. The line of curses that went from the garage to the front door when he heard the doorbell are not safe for my books. (My books, the guy that roasts everyone and calls them fucking dumb whores.)

—Hey, you are here, —said Jack after opening the door, —come in it's freezing outside.

—Thanks, happy thanksgiving by the way, —said Sophie as she entered the house.

—Oh yeah, happy thanksgiving. Just a question.

—Yeah?

—Which beer is better, this one or this one? —said Jack coming out of the kitchen

—Jack. We are 18.

—Yeah and?

—Get drunk if you want I still need to get back to my place. —She was not angry, and as soon as he said this Jack went back to the fridge to look for another thing to drink.

—Right, I have apple cider as well.

—Please tell me that cider is from this week.

—Wait, let me see the tag. This says it's from the last Christmas.

—Jack, for fucks' sake, do you have anything to drink that is not alcoholic?

—Cider is not alcoholic.

—That thing is already fermented Jack.

—Cider can become alcohol?

—Jacky, sweetie, —Sophie grabbed Jack's head like the idiot sandwich shit and calmly asked him, — how are you in a top University and still be oblivious to the fact that cider fucking becomes alcohol?

—In my defense, —Jack raised his hand with a finger up as to make a point, — you are smarter than me.

—Thanks for that, but we already knew this.

They both laughed it off and began the real shit; dinner. The one and only Thanksgiving dinner dish that everyone loved. A Costco roasted chicken. I'm not joking they did have a Costco roasted chicken for dinner, and even better, I love those things. I am allergic to chicken so every time I go to Costco and buy one of those I eat with my epipen in hand. Gotta eat the chicken. And plus it is cheap. And that's why Jack went for that.

The night went on and on. They were joking, talking, doing their work. Jack was getting hammered, well he was not hammered but he was dizzy, he was in the state of drunkness that you are when you are when you are 5 and drink wine from your mother's glass. Most of it is fake drunkness, but it is there.

—Hey Jacky, I wanted to ask you something since I got here. — asked Sophie after lowering her drink.

—Uh yeah, go for it.—Jack had already experienced all 7 stages of grief before saying those words, and well alcohol was not helping him (yes, he is underage. Yes, this is illegal. Yes, I will totally back him up on drinking in his home as a minor).

—So I know this will sound weird, but I want to see what's your secret.

—My what?—he fucking choked not gonna lie, he was thinking as a horny guy.

—Yeah, your secret, that thing that you hide in your garage. I want to see it.

—Oh... OH! Yeah, yeah obviously, my garage, yeah the car. It will be fun. Follow me, it's kind of dark in here. okay?

—Okay.

He went to the garage to open the garage door and he pushed an old car to the street. Old is a car from the 80s, it had several dents and a lot of thing you wouldn't want in your car. It was a work in progress you could say.

—So, your secret is a car?

—Not just any car, is a Mercedes, my dad was able to rescue it from an accident, and bought it even more destroyed. And he was working to make it look nice again, and for the past 4 years I have been working in it, but I'm not making a lot of progress. I have only repaired the insides and the radio.

—So you have a working car radio in a broken car?

—Wanna listen to a song? It's kinda cold in here.

—The car doesn't have a working AC, does it?

—No it has not. Waddup I'm a Mercedes, I'm 19 years old and I never learned how to fucking work.

—Never do that again. You massacred the vine.

—Well yeah, so what do you want to hear.— He opened the doors in both sides and got inside the car.

—I don't know, pick a random station or something.

—Okay then.

The radio was full of static, the song was barely hearable. Yet it had a level of nostalgia and a low quality vibe that it was sad happy. The cold weather, the crappy music, the city lights and the moon, all of them where creating a mood. The gods were trying to force something in there. A conversation. To make their lives better, to give them happiness, to try to avoid their sad smiles. Maybe there is no god in our lives, but those two were having a real moment, a moment in where they were the gods, they were in control of everything. And both of them found what they were looking for. They had only known each other for like a month, but time is slow when the gods are betting for you. The same way roses turned red from the blood of a loved one. That crappy music was becoming a tune they both loved, the tune of a perfect silence. The silence was comfortable, the background noises helped to create that safe bubble. Yet silence cannot live forever.

—Hey Jacky, are you a sunset or a sunrise person?

—I think I'm more of a sunset person, but I haven't ever seen a sunrise without being working or in school. So I don't feel like those are something that can give me peace.

—Yeah, you are losing it. Sunrises are the best. The colors, the movement, we can say goodbye moon, and welcome the sun. It's perfect. Let's stay here to see a sunrise.

—It's like 6 hours from now, its just going to be 1 o'clock.

—Let's wait in here then. I have all day.