She waved at him absently with a greeting as they walked to the bank of elevators, their sneakers squeaking slightly on the marble floor. The night doorman opened the door obsequiously for her. "Okay." He turned off the engine and followed her out of the car. He had thought to catch some of the match playbacks on his new 72" tvīut there's a strange hollow intensity in her eyes that he couldn't Come up with me for a minute?" The streetlight made her eyes sparkle like an anime character on speed. "Do you have anything going after this?" she unbuckled her seat belt and angled herself to look at him. He wasn't looking but he was sure she curled her lips at him. "I can't believe you know the lyrics to The Crystal Ship," he muttered. He pulled to a stop at the kerb outside her apartment to the accompaniment of the Beatles' Yellow Submarine. Instead, they both sang along to the classic rock hits playing on the radio that night. They did not talk at all during the ride to her apartment. He thought of taking her to task for it but his favourite Def Leppard song was on and he cranked up the volume. Without asking for permission she lowered the volume of his radio and randomly pressed the change button until she found a station playing classic rock.
The car may not look like much but the engine purred like it rolled out of AMG's assembly line and was just as responsive. The radio blared cheerfully as he cranked the engine that he lovingly restored at his pal's auto shop. And he kicked himself for caring enough to think to make a good impression with her. The lemon pine air freshener he stuck on the dashboard overpowered any possible old food and socks smell. He sniffed surreptitiously for the smell of eau de McDonald that he had as a hurried lunch in his car yesterday.
When he slid into the driver's seat, she had buckled the seat belt and sat composedly, looking straight ahead with her tote bag tucked neatly against the door.
He half thought that she'd make her way to the backseat and pretended that he was the taxi driver sending her home. She didn't wait for him to hold the door for her, letting herself in at the passenger side. He blipped the remote and his dusty ten year old Nissan chirped. Whatever," she rose, reluctance in every line of her body.
She's a city girl born and bred and she knew how to take care of herself. My car is just over there," he exasperatedly wondered why did he bother arguing with her. Not two days ago a woman broke her wrist from a snatch thief just down the road. Come on and I'll drive you," he extended his hand. "This place is not so safe for a woman at this hour. You go on ahead," she flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and deliberately turned her head towards the oncoming traffic. "Come on and I'll drive you home," he said. How on earth can she be looking at him down her nose in that queen-of-all-she-surveys manner of hers when he towered over her seated self? He thought it was unfair that she still looked glorious under the unflattering fluorescent lighting of the taxi stand, whatever makeup she put on this morning was probably long gone. "Didn't feel like driving this morning so I took the cab. His brow furrowed and he jogged over to her. He retraced his steps back to his car when he saw her crossing the street. He hugged his Mom and watched her get into the car with his sister and waved at them till the rear lights of his sister's Preve disappeared around the corner. They said goodbyes outside the restaurant to the others. It is very rough and unedited typos and grammatical errors are a given. Drafts posted may (is definitely) not be in sequence. Note: This is a first draft that is a part of a longer story.