Missed the first part of Conner’s story? Catch up with it below:
Upon the investigation conducted by my friends, it was discovered that his name was Conner, and he was a senior, a year above Reece and me. Through their channels, my posse found out he had been pursuing another Asian girl, sending a stab of jealousy through my core.
There’s, like, two Asian girls in this entire town, and of course I would be the one he isn’t interested in.
Although I didn’t know Conner existed before that day he stopped me in the Student Center, with the efforts my friends were taking to get the scoop on him and the allure of a mysterious male who randomly materialized to talk to me, I had developed a crush.
He was cute, with his ginger hair and kind eyes; he was an older guy and played in a band. He was a magnet, the laws of nature pulling me into his field.
Because he was a senior and was not in any of my school activities, the only chances of seeing him were the few minutes of the passing periods between classes, or if he played at the Music Pit. When I did spot him in the halls, my heart would take a leap of hope, yearning for him to talk to me again. Most of the time, though, he never even saw me, just as I hadn’t seen him that night.
Months passed.
The school year ended.
Conner graduated; Reece and I were officially seniors.
It was my final high school summer.
We frequented the Music Pit religiously that year. Even though Thoughts Unspoken wasn’t scheduled to play, Conner was there one night.
It started shitty. My friends were all fighting with each other except me, which meant I was caught in the middle over reasons that I refused to document, specifically stating in my diary that “we’ll all get over it and it won’t be something I want to remember.”
Nights at the Music Pit were spent outside in the parking lot when not inside by the stage, watching different sets. There were always a lot of smokers, so my friends and I preferred to hang out by my car between sets or during bands that we didn’t care to see, an inviting rest for our ears and lungs. We were doing just that, and Erin was leaning against the back of the car parked next to mine.
I took a moment to look at the vehicle propping her up, and my eyes widened as I indulged its exterior. It was beautiful: a sleek, shiny silver; it had two doors and was branded with stars on the back windshield. Stars were mine and Erin’s favorite symbols; we drew them on everything and often bought keepsakes decorated with stars.
I walked to the back of the car and rubbed the fender affectionately, saying hello to it with a quiet, “Aww…”
Erin and I transitioned into my car, she in the backseat, crying over something that had occurred earlier in the night, and I in the front, completely turned around to better comfort her. Through the back windshield, I saw someone approach from the Music Pit’s front doors.
“Erin, here comes Conner,” and she turned around to look, smiling despite the tears moistening her cheeks.
I watched him from the security of my Honda.
“I bet that’s his car,” I breathed as I studied his path. He took out his keys and unlocked it, and I had what Erin and I described as a “spaz attack.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s his car!” I exclaimed, dancing in my seat and fanning myself with my hands, then declared, “I want to go out with him so I can ride in his car.”
Only grabbing something from the interior, Conner got out again.
“Erin, tell him he has a pretty car,” I pleaded, too sheepish to say anything myself.
Erin didn’t have this problem. An extremely attractive person, the opposite sex was much more welcoming to Erin. There were many occasions when I would be looked over, guys’ eyes glossily sliding over me and landing on her. I couldn’t blame them; Erin was pretty, inside and out. She radiated so much love and consideration, therefore never questioning me when I needed a wingwoman.
Erin reached down to open the door, but it got stuck, and she couldn’t open it before Conner sauntered back inside, passing Aurora on the way.
Still in between bands, she had come out to check on us. I took the opportunity to introduce her to the beauty that was Conner’s car, pointing out the stars on the back. Erin rolled down her window.
“What kind of car is it?” Aurora asked curiously. We looked for the logo that is usually in the center of the trunk, but there wasn’t one there. We circled the entire thing, searching for any clue of what make and model it may be, but there was absolutely nothing on the car. It was completely smooth with no other embellishments.
“Maybe it’s shaved,” Aurora said.
“What does that mean?”
“That’s when they don’t have anything on the exterior. It’s supposed to make it go faster or some bullshit.”
We returned to my car, leaning against it just as Conner reappeared, walking toward the vehicle we were circling only seconds before.
As he approached the driver's door, Erin and Aurora pounced, tigers to their prey, bombarding him with compliments.
“Your car is SO PRETTY!”
“I love the stars on the back!”
“It’s so shiny!”
Somehow, this gave me the courage to speak up, too.
“I want it,” I stated.
“I’ll sell it to you for $4000,” he said.
“What?” We gaped at him.
“I’m just kidding,” he teased with a smile as he unlocked the door, “I wouldn’t sell it!”
Erin leaned out of the window and, through the tears she had still been shedding, whispered, “Rachel, you need to go out with him because he’s really cute!”
Then, Aurora’s voice abruptly rang out into the crisp night.
“I want a ride!”
Conner stopped before entering his car and looked up.
“Who wants a ride?”
I do.
“I do!” Aurora stated, not breaking eye contact with Conner, as if she were challenging him.
“Okay,” he said. Then got into the driver's seat.
“Come on, Rachel,” Aurora grabbed my wrist and led me to the passenger door, not bothering to ask if I could be included in this offer. I didn’t object, not even when Aurora instructed that I sit in the front; she was already crawling into the backseat.
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I closed the door, now admiring the sleek interior that Conner kept pristine and neat. He leaned towards me, coming excitingly close, then bent down to reach under my seat. It slid back towards Aurora.
“So I can see.”
Clicking the engine to life with the turn of his key, he rolled the windows down and opened the sunroof, letting in the welcome tickle of summer air. I looked out into the back window of my car, Erin smiling at me like an 18th-century mother who had set her child up to meet a great match.
“Erin, grab my keys and phone,” I yelled as we backed up. “I left them on the trunk of my car!”
“Okay!” She waved to us, beaming.
I buckled my seatbelt as the car pulled out of the driveway and glided down the main street. I thought he was just going to drive us up and down the road and come back, but he kept driving.
He accelerated, and the car went from 0-60 in seconds. He could spot cops well and explained how police cars had new cameras with the ability to record people speeding.
As he elegantly executed a U-turn, he cocked his head in my direction and said, “If a cop pulls me over, just start crying so he doesn’t give me a ticket.”
Say something clever back. Don’t just sit and stare. Say something!
I said nothing.
Then I realized, despite having spoken to Conner a few times before, we had never formally met.
I might need to introduce myself.
“I don’t know you guys,” he initiated. “I’m Conner.”
Aurora and I reciprocated.
Through the plethora of cars on the street, Conner handled the car smoothly, switching lanes in much tighter situations than I would have ever attempted, gliding like butter. Like the car was an extension of his body.
He looked at me, deciding to break the silence.
“I remember I tried to talk to you one time at lunch, and you were like, ‘Are you talking to me?’” he teased.
“I had never seen you before!”
“You’d seen me play!” he bantered back.
He was looking at me again. Challenging me. I gave in.
“Well, I’m really dumb and not that observant.”
I turned and looked out the window. The streets I navigated every day looked different on this night, whizzing by with an enticing sense of danger, though I felt completely safe.
“I remember when you told me about that,” Aurora chimed in.
“I was confused that someone I didn’t know recognized me.”
I didn’t let my eyes meet Conner’s.
“Wasn’t that your first night there?” Aurora asked, already knowing the answer. She was the one who had invited me.
“HEY, YOU GOING TO PARTY?”
We were at a stoplight, interrupted by a man holding a beer bottle as he leaned out of the passenger window of a white pick-up truck, his eyes struggling to open more than a sliver.
“Where are the parties at?” Conner asked. He leaned casually out of the window.
“Whurevur you wannnit to be,” the man replied, trying to enunciate as his tongue interfered with his speech, sloshing beer onto the road. “So wurs yur party at?”
“In my car.”
Aurora and I exchanged glances as the light switched to green. As he drove off, he turned to me again.
“That guy was pretty drunk,” he stated.
“Just a little bit,” I said, as Conner’s phone began to ring.
He answered, and after a brief conversation, said, “We need to make a detour.”
Minutes later, we were parked on the side of one of the main freeways exiting town, one of several other sporty cars, part of a rainbow array of glistening metallic. The freeway was fairly deserted at this time of night.
“They’re gonna race,” Conner told us. “Come on,” and he got out of the car.
“What?” Aurora and I looked at each other, mouth ajar, Conner already walking up to his friends.
“Yes! This is awesome,” Aurora declared. “Hurry up, Rachel, get out.”
I did as Aurora commanded, all of the pieces fitting together in my mind. The beautifully shaved car, the expert driving, practiced at spotting cops.
Conner was a street racer.
My mind brought forth a scene from The Fast and The Furious, Conner growing more and more captivating as I compared him to a young Paul Walker.
I looked around as Aurora and I stood on the side of the road, not venturing far from the comfort of Conner’s car. All the vehicles had their headlights on, brightening the dimly lit pavement. Some cars had lights underneath them, illuminating the space between the bottom of the car and the ground with different shades of neon. It was as if Aurora and I had infiltrated an elusive festival of lights.
Conner sauntered back and told us where to stand to stay safe. The two racers were waiting idly a short distance ahead of the rest, settling into their seats.
“This will be quick,” Conner explained, placing his hands in the pockets of his shorts. Aurora stood next to me, and I could feel her exhilaration at this turn of events.
The engines began revving with short growls, then suddenly exhaled monstrous roars as they accelerated away from us, disappearing with the distance into the light veil of mist that had begun to settle on the night.
Conner ran to check in with the others some distance up, likely to see who won, then ran back to us.
“Hurry—get back in the car,” he instructed. “Before the cops come. They’re probably already on their way.”
Aurora quickly clambered back into the backseat, and I followed swiftly behind, closing the passenger door and buckling my seatbelt as Conner leaned over to slide my seat back again.
I relished his closeness.
Each car took off, one after the other, as if they had planned a synchronized coordination, and Conner followed the flow of expert choreography. We exited the freeway and returned to town, like the thrilling moments before had never occurred.
We were headed back to the Music Pit. Conner was explaining the ins and outs of street racing, but I wasn’t listening. Instead, I grew increasingly aware of how much hotter he became each time he switched gears.
Knowing that our time together was ending, I needed to talk to him or else I’d waste this opportunity. I took a breath before facing those malachite eyes.
“You just graduated, didn’t you?”
Dumb question! We just spoke at graduation. Maybe he doesn’t remember.
“Yeah,” he answered. “Didn’t I see you there?”
He does remember.
“Yeah, I was there because I had to perform with the choir,” I explained. “So, are you still in the band?”
“Yeah, but we aren’t performing right now. We had to kick Teddy out,” he confided.
He continued to explain the falling out, then we discussed what music we listened to, gossiped about other local garage bands, and wondered who could take Teddy’s place.
Too soon, Conner pulled back into the tiny gravel parking lot, the rocks letting out small crunches as the tires ground to a stop. Erin and Reece were leaning against my car, talking, but as soon as they saw us, they smiled, and Erin waved enthusiastically.
I waved back, then turned to Conner and said, “I love you so much for letting me ride in your car.”
It just came out like that—flew from my lips in a moment of whimsy. I didn’t mean it, but at the same time, I did. I wasn’t even embarrassed. I had settled onto Cloud Nine, and it was lifting me away, higher and higher.
He didn’t say anything, but responded with a smile and a nod.
It’s a wonder I was able to remember how to unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door, I was so giddy. I forgot to let Aurora out of the car, so Conner had to do it. He stayed seated, ready to go wherever he was headed before Aurora and I interrupted his night.
I danced over to Reece and Erin, Aurora trailing me, and before they could speak, I loudly announced, “I want him so bad!”
“Rachel, his windows and sunroof are still open!” Aurora informed me. I covered my mouth with my hand. Oops.
“You better love me,” she continued, a look of satisfaction on her face. I leaped up and hugged her.
“I do! You made the fucking night!”
Erin and Reece laughed behind us, closing in to get more details.
“Where did you guys go?”
“Did he drive really fast?”
“What did he say?”
Over Aurora’s shoulder, I saw Conner’s car exiting the parking lot, then I turned around and continued to do a happy dance, not caring that he could see me in his rearview mirror.
On the way home that night, Aurora and I were still buzzing about the best car ride we’d ever had, and Erin and Reece were hungry for more details.
“Too bad he didn’t let you try to drive his car,” Erin said, thinking wishfully from the backseat next to Aurora. Reece was in the front with me.
“I wouldn’t have been able to drive it anyway,” I explained, bursting the bubble of the idea. “It’s a stick.”
“He can teach you how to drive his stick,” Erin replied with a laugh, the other girls joining her.
The girls picked on me because I was so…innocent. I didn’t understand a lot of sexual innuendoes, and I planned on preserving my virginity until I was married.
I thought that was what you were supposed to do. What good girls do. The honorable thing to do. What my parents told me I should do.
I never stopped to consider if that was what I wanted to do. It was my life, my body, my virginity. But I wanted to be good, and it was so much easier this way. Safer. Physically and emotionally.
Unless I meet Eminem. If I meet Marshall Mathers, all rules are nullified, and I would gladly forsake my virginity.
Ignoring Erin’s dig about learning to drive Conner’s metaphoric stick, I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Rachel, where are you going?” Aurora asked, lifting me from my reverie.
I was auto-piloting, heading in the wrong direction when I was supposed to be going to Erin’s house.
“Oh dammit,” I said, inelegantly pulling into the left lane to make a U-turn. Aurora teased me the rest of the way, acting as a backseat navigator in case I auto-piloted again.
After dropping Erin off and parking in front of Reece and Aurora’s, I walked them to the front door so Reece could give me some script notes for Theatre. We had both joined a summer workshop and were managing a play called The Matchmaker.
As we stepped into the house, we realized we were imposing on their mom, who was having a nightcap with a friend.
“How was the show, girls?”
Still ecstatic, I blurted, “I rode in a car with a boy!”
“You were in the backseat with a boy?” her friend yelled from the kitchen.
“No, I was in the backseat,” Aurora interjected.
I put my hand over my face as Reece clarified. “No one was ‘in the backseat,’” she announced, hands spread wide.
Their mom looked on at us, nonplussed, and waited for more information.
“I got Rachel to ride in this really hot car with this guy she likes, but I went with her,” Aurora said, putting the jokes aside.
“Don’t tell my mom!” I requested of Mrs. V. She wouldn’t anyway; she was the type of parent who wasn’t a snitch unless there was real danger, so we conveniently left the part about the street race out. She may not have considered that dangerous, but it was better not to push our luck.
Finally collecting the script from Reece, I said good night and drove home, trying to continue to ride the buzz I was feeling, which was harder to do now that I was alone.
Once home, I said goodnight to my parents and got ready for bed. I crawled into the comfort of my full-sized futon, under my super-soft faux-mink blanket, moving all the decorative pillows adorned with stars, then let loose on the pages of my journal.
I don’t want to forget tonight. Ever.
Hand aching, I set my journal aside and turned off my light, exhausted yet wired, thinking that my chances of being able to go out with Conner had gone drastically up.
📝 Journal Prompts for “The Ride”
🎼 Playlist for “The Ride”
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