As soon as Edwin put the car into gear, a small smile returned to his face. His half-over weekend had been the very definition of insane, but he still had his car. His beautiful, perfect, straightforward, simple car. He gripped the wheel and felt a modicum of peace returning. Nothing else was making sense, but he understood the Alfa Romeo Spider. It was real and solid and right.
His peace was shattered when somebody behind him laughed and said, “I’ve got to say, I probably would have fucked her.”4
Edwin jerked back like the stranger had punched him or pulled a knife on him. “Who the fuck are you?”
“You know who I am.”
Edwin blinked. “What?”
“I introduced myself to you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your dream? The prom? Sorry about that, by the way, but I was trying to think of the last time I went on a date, and it happened to be the prom, so…”
“Who the fuck are you? What the fuck are you talking about?”