A little based on this song. A sequel to this story. I was debating if a sequel would happen, but it’s Christmas morning, and apparently a sequel is the right way to go. I hope you enjoy it as much as I really enjoy writing these stories. And I’m really in a good mood. So this is a lot more upbeat than Cords.
“Lets go. Tyler, get in the back.” Clay jumped in the driver side and the other two piled in the other side.
“Damn it, I’m the oldest. I should drive.” Tyler crawled over the edge of the truck bed, stepping around sound equipment and instruments.
“If you whine like a bitch, we’re never letting you drive. Act like a little girl.” Bryce knocked the window when he spoke.
“Whatever,” he muttered, then held onto the top of the truck. There wasn’t space for him to sit as the wheels spun in the dirt in front of the farm house.
The sun was setting, the sky golden. Inside the three teenagers talked and shoved each other, the truck swaying back and forth. Tyler held onto the top with all he had, one foot behind the other to give him stability. His button up shirt fluttered in the wind, revealing his well used white shirt, which was starting to fall apart at the collar. It was hard for him not to smile. Things were just going to damned well.
When they entered town, there were a few people out and about. Most the cars would be parked in front of the bar. The majority of those would be friends, with the sprinkled in regulars drinking away issues and avoiding home. That was fine. Tyler didn’t need to do that, not anymore.
Then he saw Claire on the side of the road. He pounded the top of the truck, “Clay, stop.”
“Stop being a prick, dude. Stop the truck.” They pulled over to the side of the road. “Claire!” She was with a friend. “Claire!”
Her clothes was so different. It was fashionable. A purse hung on her arm. She became stranger and stranger to him. When she saw him, she scowled, “What do you want?”
“I’m on fire.” He reached out. “We’re going to perform. Get in.”
She bit her lip and looked at her friend, then back at Tyler. “I can’t. Not yet.”
“Please Claire. Get in. Burn on fire with me and we’ll burn this place down.” He leaned over the edge, smiling wide enough to show his awkward teeth. It wasn’t horrible, but there was a gap between his canine and molar.
“I can’t, Tyler. I’m sorry. Come back for me, just not now.”
He didn’t stop smiling, though the twinkle in his eye died a little. “I can’t wait. If you can catch up, I’ll be waiting. Otherwise, I guess goodbye.” He slammed the top of the truck and wheels squealed across asphalt as they took off towards the bar where they had landed their first gig.
...like butta' on your toast!
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