We told my dad our story about needing to get up early to shoot the sunrise. He bought it. By 6:00 AM, I felt crazy relieved to be out of the house and on the road. Charlie leaned her arm out the window, smoking one of three cigarettes I stole from May. Part of our deal. Pink, followed by Justice Rain’s new track, blasted from the radio until a commercial came on and Charlie turned it down. Another part of our deal.
“I can stream something from my phone,” I offered.
“I thought you liked Pink.”
“I do, but I hate the radio.”
Charlie shrugged and smiled. “My car. My rules.”
I laughed. “Why do you even like the radio? It’s only half music.”
She took another drag from her cigarette and puffed it out the window smoothly. “It makes me feel connected to… here. Where we live. You can stream stuff from your phone, but it comes from somewhere else. I don’t even know where.”
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