Harvestland

SEVEN

That Saturday afternoon after Mother got back from grocery shopping, Charlee said thanks, hopped in her car, and tore out of the driveway. She had promised a couple of old friends she'd hang out with them, friends she hadn't talked with much since Alison's death.

And she asked Noah if he wanted to come along.

They had been hanging out pretty regularly. Lunches. Weeknights. Weekends. She had long since fallen in love.

Her parents had promised her the car for the weekend which they rarely did due to her allegedly reckless driving. In the aftermath of Alison's death they had been nicer than normal, granting her a marginal amount of freedom that was probably the usual for other teenagers.

And because of Noah, she was sure that ulterior motives were present. Mother in particular was excited about her friendship with him, talked incessantly about what a nice young man he was—hintity-hint-hint.

Charlee sped to Noah's house in a little over five minutes. She peeled into the driveway, honking the horn a few times and revving the engine. "Noah!" she called out the passenger window, turning down blaring hard rock.

He came out of the house looking like an old businessman with his button-up shirt, tie, cardigan, and trench coat. He shook his head and smiled.

"Someone's going to call the police," he said as he settled in the car.

"Fuck 'em, let 'em call."

He was barely buckled in before she burned rubber out of the driveway and sped down the road, careening dangerously around the corner. He sat rigid, holding onto the door, eyes wide underneath those glasses. He was so cute.

"So um, how fast are you going?" he asked.

She eyed the speedometer. "Fifty."

He laughed nervously. "I thought residential areas were like thirty...max."

"Eh."

"Eh?"

"That's a suggestion."

"Oh is it now? And what is this?" He pointed at the radio.

"Mix tape. This is Metallica now. But there's some Nirvana on it too, Black Sabbath."

"Black Sabbath? Oh goodness."

"What?"

"I mean this is just awful."

"Dude, this is real music."

"This is screaming and noise."

"Well, all right, you choose something, smartass."

"Language."

"Smart...butt? That just sounds stupid. You really gotta get over the no swearing thing."

Noah recited scripture: "'Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be.' James three, ten."

Charlee shook her head. "I know you're this angel of a Christian, but one day I'll bring out that devil I know is deep down inside of you."

Noah shook his own head.

But then Charlee said, "No. You know what? Never mind. Forget I said that. I like that you don't swear. It's different. It's refreshing in someone our age. A man of principle. But go ahead, choose something you like on the radio."