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     “Sarah! Elliott’s here!”
     “Coming!”
     I glanced in the full-length mirror leaning up against my bedroom wall and gave myself another once-over. I patted down my short blond hair so that no light strand was sticking up or out of place. I checked my makeup to make sure that none had smeared in the past five minutes. Lastly, I turned around to confirm that my expensive designer jeans weren’t tight enough to show my underwear line.
     “Sarah!”
     “I’m coming, I’m coming!”
     My parents are extremely punctual and expect everything to be on time, always. Unfortunately I don’t fit their mold of the perfectly-on-time girl.
     After checking my appearance all over again, I threw open my bedroom door and ran downstairs to where my parents were waiting with my fiancé, Elliott.
     My father’s forehead wrinkled up, his eyebrows turned downwards sharply, and his lips became a thin line, forming his face into a frown. My mother’s high-heeled foot was tapping the hardwood floor and her arms kept crossing and recrossing as she checked her watch about every five seconds.
     “Sarah, how many times do we have to tell you to.”
     “Be on time, I know,” I finished for my father. “It’s just such a shame that I’m always thirty seconds off schedule.” I decided to end my sentence with a sarcastic remark to let it sink into my parents’ brains that they were time-obsessed.
      They didn’t get it.
     “We know you’re trying, dear,” my mom, the slightly more optimistic one, said.
     “Maybe someday...” Dad’s voice trailed off as he stared thoughtfully at the wall behind me, probably dreaming about the day when his daughter would be exactly on time, not one second early or one second late.
     “Whatever.” I turned to look at Elliott and smiled. “Hi Elliott.”
     “Hello Sarah.” His dark eyes shined from behind his glasses as he smiled back at me.
      “Well Mom, Dad,” I said, nodding at them. “I’m leaving now.” I walked over and gave them each a kiss on the cheek, a nightly routine for when Elliott and I went on dates--which was pretty much every night.
     I never really got to do what I wanted anymore. I missed the nights where I could stay up till 3A.M., watching chick flicks and devouring popcorn and ice cream.
     I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I barely noticed when Elliott looped his arm through mine and kissed my cheek. We were outside by now, so it’s not like my parents could see us.
     “You look beautiful,” he whispered in his awkward way as he opened the passenger side door of his cherry-red Ferrari.
     “Thanks.” I hopped inside the sports car and buckled my seat belt. I didn’t get why Elliott had a Ferrari, especially a red one. He was the type of person who would rather stay home and read thick, dull books about trigonometry and physics than spend the afternoon at the beach and grab a slice of pizza afterward.
     Ah, pizza. My mouth watered at the thought. I hadn’t had pizza or gone to the beach in years, because, as Dad often says, “those things” aren’t suitable for the daughter of the man who owns Huxtable Airlines. Nor is a bag of Kettle Corn or a pint of Moose Tracks.
     As the red car started speeding its way down the road, I asked, “So what are the plans for tonight?”
     “The usual.” Elliott barely gave me the time of day, instead staring blankly out at the wet street that stretched endlessly for miles in front of him. He turned on the windshield wipers so he could see more clearly.
     I stared at the shiny asphalt, too, and bit my lip to refrain from making a comment about our “usual” dates: dinner at the same fancy restaurant, then going to see the same old play after we ate. We would have long, boring conversations about math equations and other idiotic things that I simply did not understand.
     In my opinion, we needed to “spice up” our relationship.
     Right before we got on the highway that would lead us to a town where they had an Olive Garden, I suddenly screamed, “Stop!” at the top of my lungs.
     The car swerved over to the side of the road and lurched to an abrupt and screechy halt.
     “What is your problem Sarah?” Elliott asked angrily. “You could have wrecked the car that way.”
     “Oh, who cares about your stupid car?” I threw my hands up in disgust. “I just want to have a--a normal life for once. Can’t we just forget about your fancy sports car and Olive Garden and that Marriage of Figaro crap? Why can’t we go on a regular date like regular people?”
     Elliott was clearly stunned and at a loss for words. “I...”
     “We don’t need to go someplace fancy just because my dad is rich and famous,” I continued. “Now turn the car around.”
     “What?” He was shocked.
     “You heard me. Turn it.”
     “Why...?”
     “Just turn the freaking car around!” I screeched, becoming impatient for no reason. “I want to go to the bowling alley.”
     “The what?” Elliott’s eyes bugged out of his head.
     “The bowling alley. Now let’s go.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms stubbornly over my chest.
     “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Elliott objected, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
     “Please?” I begged, calming down a bit.
     He was quiet.
     “Please. For me.” I looked convincingly into his eyes and rested my hand on top of his.
     Silence plagued the Ferrari. The only noises we heard were the raindrops pittering and pattering on the roof, and the sounds the cars made as they zoomed past us and splashed in puddles that were scattered throughout the road.
     “Well, I suppose we could,” Elliott finally gave in, starting up the car again and performing a U-turn. “But only if neither of our parents find out.”
     I grinned, unable to contain my joy. “Thank you!”
     He turned to look at me and I saw a smile spread its way across his face. “You’re lucky you’re so beautiful, otherwise I wouldn’t have done this,” he teased.
     “Oh, stop it,” I said playfully, even though I enjoyed all the flattery.
     We both closed our eyes and started leaning in for a kiss, when immediately I knew something was wrong. I snapped my head back into focus and stared out the windshield as the Ferrari flew off the road and became airborne for a few seconds, before it crashed into a ditch about fifteen feet below. Then everything went black.

Author's Note

They were too busy kissing to notice that the car went straight off the overpass! Nice, huh? :3

Reviews

[Moebia]

Wow! I love this :D

You're sooooo good!