Can we date?

She did all those things. She was majestic. Red hair, streaked hair no hair. Red lipstick, purple silver blue lipstick. Men's bottoms, women's bottoms, and everything out loud.

It wasn't what she did that got me, it was what she hadn't done. One day in the car she was all white-knuckled on the wheel and didn't want to talk, didn't want the radio on. What the fuck, Alice? It was the rain, made her nervous, past nervous. Hydroplane, she said, don't want to hydroplane. Eyes straight ahead, willing the wheels to keep their friction, to keep our motion predictable.

I made her take us to the highschool parking lot. It floods and makes for excellent bikeriding, one big puddle, sheets of rainwater flying up from both sides. She didn't want to drive, she wanted me to show her but I said Alice the worst that can happen is you will hydroplane and that is what we are going to do. We are aiming for the worst and it will not be that bad.

It took her a while to get up to any speed and longer to attempt anything but a straight slow line. The first time the Camry fishtailed she shrieked and hit the brakes which of course made it worse and we spun all over the place, a bumper car all alone, out in the middle with not even any curbs to hit, out of danger but terrified. I mean both of us were terrified; before we were laughing, the sudden unscheduled spin of the car had us both grabbing for each other and glad we had our seat belts on. We both grabbed for each other; I hadn't remembered that til now.

Later, this day would of course become a parable in my mind; she let me lead her into danger, and she became dangerous. At the time, I only thought I had shown her how to have power over something frightening. I guess that's where bad things begin.

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