Monica didn’t care what time we left, even if my gin and tonic hangover put us behind schedule. The last few bucks we had were taking us home for the weekend where laundry would be cleaned and the empty cooler in the backseat would get packed with meats, veggies, and chicken salad that 50% of the time we finished on the drive back to college.
I never slept in the passenger seat, but I wanted to as soon as the sun disappeared. I picked songs. We talked and smoked and rarely stopped. We made it in four hours once. That silver Altima took us to the Charlotte skyline more time than I could count. It was the best part of the trip. We knew we’d see the lights curving onto 485. They always glowed and waved welcome home.