Chapter 10

Levy

Listening to them all chat shit about their music, most of the groups I haven’t even heard of or the artists and their college work, hits me right in the fucking gut, it highlights just how much of an age gap there is between Harper and myself. Jeez, eighteen years, I feel like an old crumbly just looking at her and sneaking glances at her in my rearview. Oh, fuck now I’m turning into some pervert, and feverishly try recalling all the couples out there that are in age gap relationships. Why couldn’t this be forward in time when she’s at least thirty and I’m forty-eight it just sounds better. Doesn’t it?

We arrive back at mine in around twenty-five minutes, I had to stop to get fuel - this truck of mine drinks it and even though I ought to consider getting a more environmentally friendly one, as Dylan keeps banging on and on about, I’d be sad to see this go. My father owned it and had it since he first learned to drive, so yeah, it has plenty of sentimental value.

Dylan, Lacey and