IV: MY MADE UP FRIENDS

I don’t know if it was before or after I heard this story that I started asking her if she wanted rides in the Truck home after school. She didn’t live far from the house; I probably could have walked to hers, no problem via Truck. At first I would see her in the parking lot when school got out and I'd offer her a ride home in the Truck, because it was no problem, but she would just give me this Wal-Mart smile; a real fake smile.

But just a second before she whipped that smile out, her face had something else going on in it. It had a thing going on that reminded me of how some desert creature would look if you lifted up the rock that it was living under. So that is, sort of like its surprised and sort of like its glad that it just surprised you. Anyway, I’d rev the old engine and peel outta there but I’d look back at her through the rearview, where she was still standing in the parking lot.

And I’d drive away and put my hand out of the window so that I could slap the side of the truck and think about how much it would suck to have the only thing that anybody knew about you be that you had some shitty rubber clogs, now that’s got to be the most boring thing in the history of all time.

Damn that smile really sucked.

But still, anyone might consider steering the old Truck in that direction. Towards that person, I mean. Theres always something you can tell yourself that might make you think about going there. But that’s a bad idea and hopefully you’ll listen to that smart guy inside of you when he says to just rev the engine and peel on outta there.