The top is down, and I’m rolling through the hills. Even the wind at sixty miles an hour can’t wipe the grin off my face. Realistically it’s a few degrees too cool for a convertable, but I don’t care.
The girl to my right grins along, being a good sport I’m sure. Her mom knows my mom who knows I’m kicking around with nothing to do. A phone call later, I’m giving some girl a ride to the mall to pick something up. I don’t even care what.
Based on how she’s dressed and the make-up she either cares a whole lot or not at all. I try not to think about it. The curves on River Road are enough to keep my mind occupied, and I don’t know if I’m ready to think about her curves, pleasant as they are in stolen glimpses.
It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. The sun kisses my face, and coyotes sing me to sleep at night. Winter is coming but will have no bite. My blue jeans are worn, shades out of style. All the same I’m just happy to be me again.
It’s November in Arizona, and I don’t miss Canada.