CRASH AND BURN
His boots cut a swath through the snow leaving two squiggling trails behind him on the surface of the icy road. He came to a rest just shy of twenty feet later, a crooked smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
It was a hell of a night, a blustery mess of winter. Most people had enough common sense to keep to the confines of their homes, but he had places to be and people to see. Crouching slightly, he took a few long strides forward, then slid another twenty feet. It was perfect weather for a slide around, which was great fun right now, although ten minutes earlier, a little less so.
He had been riding shotgun in a small sedan, a fiery redhead behind the wheel. She cursed and swore like a sailor, pounding her fist furiously on the steering wheel and dash as the modest vehicle struggled to find traction on the increasingly impassable roads.
“You’re an idiot,” she bellowed out over the blaring rock music.
He wasn’t sure if she was talking to him, one of the two drunks slouched in the backseat, the car, or the weather itself. He glanced over at her. Her emerald eyes gleamed in the dim glow from the dash, focused with laser intensity on the road before them. Her alabaster skin almost glowed in the night, in perfect contrast against blood orange hair that was perfectly framed by a fuzzy green toque. He didn’t really care if she was talking to him. He was in love.
They were going to drop the drunks off at another party, then head over to his place for a few quite hours together. Tonight was going to be the night. Then they crashed.
He felt his feet wobble dangerously beneath him and barely regained his composure. He needed a shovel and he needed one quick. He scanned the driveways of the houses lining the street, desperately seeking a tool to dig the car from its snowy crypt.
She had lost traction on a corner and crashed into a snow bank. It was not serious by any means, but the longer he delayed, the less chance he had of finally sealing the deal. He felt like a bit of an asshole thinking this way, but he really, really, REALLY liked her. Like, a lot.
Eureka! A large snow scoop leaned against the deck of a nearby house. He bolted up the driveway, grabbed the shovel, and ran back to the road. He jumped into the scoop and rode it down the gentle hill like a toboggan. It was not too late to salvage the evening.
He could see the car at the top of the next rise, its red taillights illuminating the street. He would dig the car out, be the hero, and reap the rewards. He was so nervous he could puke.
He slid up to the side of the car and brandished the shovel proudly. “I got it!”
He spent the next forty minutes digging out around the car before finally realizing that it was not going anywhere. He had cleared all the way around, but the underside of the car was packed with snow. Worse still, although she was not even giving it any gas, the tires were turning in lazy circles on the icy surface beneath them.
They were not going anywhere. He leaned his head into the passenger side door and broke the bad news.
“”I told you I didn’t want to drive in this crap,” she grumbled.
“We can still go to my place,” he said, wincing at the pleading tone of his voice. “I’ll come back in the morning and dig it out.”
“And how will I get home?”
“You can spend the night?”
“I’m sixteen-freaking-years-old! My parents would kill me. They’re going to already!””
Crash. And. Burn. He loved her more than ever. The crooked smile slowly spread across his face as he realized his magic night of fun was over. He was overcome with an odd sense of relief. Teenage love was funny that way.
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