Savage
<strong>Late June</strong>
“You still have this old truck?” Malone laughs as she comes out of her childhood home, laughing when she sees the same truck I picked her up in for our first date. This Chevy has seen a lot, seen <em>me</em> through a lot.
“I do.” I wave at her parents as she walks down the steps. They’re peeking out of the front door, obviously spying on us. She comes to a stop at the passenger side door. “It’s got almost four-hundred thousand miles on it and a lifetime of memories.” Our eyes meet and I can tell she’s remembering the same thing I am. The hot summer night we lost our virginity in the back on a mattress made of old blankets and a pool float.
“How many other girls have you had in here since I left?” She tilts her head to the side, her curls falling down her back.
“That shotgun seats still yours, Mal. Nobody else has ever sat in it but you.”