Monday, May 14, 2012

Summer Nights. Driving.

When the sun starts to show its face longer and the days reach for the 90-100+ temperatures, my heart sings a happy tune, even if I'm cursing the heat. Summer has always held a bit of magic for me, but nothing compares to 3 years ago. I knew that it was going to be the best summer of my life that first night we went driving.
After getting back in the neighborhood from a party we drove up and down and over the "horse streets" while I provided my limited knowledge of how I was operating the old red ford ranger's (fondly referred to as the Weenie Wagon) clutch and gear shifter.
I pulled in to the dirt at the side of the road, put the brake on then turned to David and said, "Your turn!"
He was a natural. For a few minutes I wondered if he had lied to me about not being able to drive stick...but then we came to a stop at the base of a little upward slope. He killed it. And he killed it again. And again. After barely getting the red wagon in forward motion again we continued working our way up and down the streets, often stopping several times before coming to a stop sign to get extra practice starting in 1st gear.
It was getting late and we decided to call it a night. I had to be at the pool at 4:45 and David started work at 6:30. Early mornings make for early nights. David drove up to his Grandparent's house (where he was living) and we both got out to switch seats so I could drive home. We met at the driver's door and gave each other an awkward good night and good bye wave of the arm. I hopped in the truck and David shut the door and then headed up the slope of the lawn toward the front door.
It was a good night. And I couldn't wait to have another one just like it, minus an awkward departure. As I cuddled up with an ice pack in bed (it gets hot down hur and there's nothing worse than trying to fall asleep when you're sweating bullets) I realized that the muscles in my face were sore from all the smiling and laughing that that went on and on that night. But as I often say when I have sore muscles from a good workout- it's a hurt so good feeling; one that I would gladly endure for the rest of my life.

A few days later our texting conversation that took place during water breaks at work led to the fact that I am an awful basketball player. David invited me over to the backyard basketball court when the sun went down so we could work on improving my skills. He was surprised that I really wasn't too bad. I am more coordinated and athletic than your average girl, if I do say so myself. After cleaning up a few dribbling mishaps and getting my lay-ups consistent I called for a game of HORSE. David reminded me of the rules, because I hadn't played since P.E. in Jr. High, and the game began.
I won. As the winner I got to choose our next activity. I chose driving practice. Tonight we were going to work on starting in 1st gear while going up a hill. Once David got consistent with this we dared crossing the highway and exploring the roads up in the hills by the state college. As the hour got later, we mosied our way back to the horse streets and repeated another awkward farewell outside his grandparents house.
That night in bed I was panicked. David was getting good at this manual driving thing, and I needed to come up with others ways to spend some time with him. Lucky for us, Courtney was always down for games and/or movies at her house, and we met there frequently to pretend to be mad each other when we lost a game or two.

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