Scars of the Past

Chapter Four: Racetrack Higgins

    I yawned quietly as the wind blew in my face. Sometimes being in the car with Spot felt like being sucked into a tornado. I watched as the trees drifted past as we sped down the road. Driving to Amelia and Corey's house was pretty relaxing. They lived just off the coast so there was ocean everywhere. I smiled softly as I looked over at Spot. His dark black hair blew in the wind as the sun rays shimmered down on him.

    "This is gospel for the fallen one. Locked away in permanent slumber. Assembling their philosopies from pieces of broken memories," Spot shouted as loud as he can to try and sing louder than the music. I chuckled quietly as I watched him. There was nothing he loved more than blasting music with the jeep doors off, and the wind blowing in his face. He's a dork.

    "If you love me let me goooo!" He shouted even louder as it came to the chorus. "Cause these words are knives and often leave scars. The fear of falling apart."

    "You are such a dork!" I laughed and punched him in the arm.

    He turned the radio down, looking at me then back at the road. "I am not a dork. I enjoy P!ATD and so does half of the world. You're a dork for blasting P!nk." He smirked then looked back at the road.

    "Her music is great! I am not a dork!"

    "Believe what ya wanna believe," he smirked then turned the radio up trying to win the argument by draining my voice out.

    "Hey!" I shouted, my voice muffled by Brandon Urie. I turned the radio down and tried to hold the knob to block him. He tried swatting my hand away as if I was a fly. "I am not a dork! You're emo!"

    He laughed, "Am not!"

    "Come on, Spottie. You wear black every single day, you listen to depressing music, you spike your hair, like a dork," I ruffled his hair, trying to get a reaction.

    "That doesn't mean I'm emo."

    "Um, yes it does."

   "Shut up," He grinned and punched me in the arm.

    "Ouch! Bully."

    He rolled his eyes as we continued driving down the street. The waves started blowing into the shore with more and more force as the sun went lower and lower in the sky. I grinned and tugged his sun glasses off him and put them on.

    "Look at me. I'm Spot Conlon and my boyfriend is one hundred percent right because I am a dork," I stated, imitating his voice.

    "Give them back!"

    "Nuh-uh!" I laughed and leaned away from him. "I need these to look tough!"

    "I don't sound like that!"

    "Believe what ya wanna believe," I mocked and grinned as he swatted at me with his free arm.

    "Shut up or else I'm gonna crash the car," He teased.

    "You love your car too much for that." I took his sunglasses off and plopped them onto his head. "Take them back. I'm not cranky enough to impersonate you.

    "I hate you."

    "Aww, thanks babe! I hate you too!" I smirked and punched him in the arm. He took a handoff the wheel to fix his hair. The guy is way too into his looks. "You look fine, Barbie."

    "You're stupid," He laughed and looked back to the road.

    "Yeah. Yeah. Whatever," I turned the volume up again but switched the station, only to be greeted by another Panic! At The Disco song. "Not again..."

    "The death of the bachelor," Spot shouted as loud as he can, leaning towards me. I shoved him away and looked outside. It was going to be a long ride to Amelia and Corey's house.
You know you secretly love me."

    "Nah. Get your head out of the clouds," I teased then kissed his cheek. He may be loud and obnoxious, but I still love him. I just can't ever tell him that to his face. He grinned softly as we continued drive down the streets, down into traffic. Spot moaned and turned the radio down.

    "I thought we came out late enough to avoid all this."

    "Nonsense. We live in New York. We will never avoid all this," I yawned softly then leaned my head on Spot shoulder. Just as the car in front of us started to move forward, a black SUV swarmed in front of us, causing Spot to slam on the break. He put his arm in front on me, trying to hold me back. Spot muttered various swears under his breath.

    We continued stopping and driving about a foot at a time. Spot's rage started building up more and more the longer we had to sit there. We had sat there for so long I had basically memorized my surrounding, something I never did. I had my feet on the dashboard as I messed around with Spot's sunglasses that I tugged from him again. I turned the radio back on to some new Dua Lipa song.

    "We are never gonna make it to their house. We might as well just go home."

    "I'm not walking," I muttered as I bit on the end of the sunglasses. I looked around at all of the cars, trying to find that SUV again. Not because I wanted Spot to yell at him, which he probably would if he saw them again, but because I was kind of curious as to what they looked like. I had been spending the past ten minutes trying to decide what they looked like. Eventually I had come to the conclusion that it was a black haired girl named Lisa.

    "All I wanted was some smores and some beer. Is that too much to ask for?" Spot asked, laying his head on the wheel, accidently honking the car horn. "Sorry!" Spot shouted out the door. I turned around and started checking the backseat for a sweater. For a night in mid-August, it wasn't very warm. Of course, I had forgotten my sweater at home. I moaned then pulled my legs up to my chest.

    "Maybe we should have left on the doors..." Spot muttered.

    "You think?" I shivered in my seat as I held onto my seatbelt. I watched as the cars slowly treaded forward, still keeping an eye out for the SUV. At this point I was over joyed at the thought of smores and a fire. That is if we ever get out of this traffic.