Nick and Lace

/\ I kind of see a little bit of Nick /\

I really just go to school with Nick.

/\ I totally see Lace doing this /\

Captures him nicely

When I say I go to school with Nick: I see a boy walking the halls that I always picture walking down the halls talking to Lace and being the character I'd imagine Nick being like in school. Also the Lieutenant is a car I walk by on my way home that is exactly as I describe it. I write a lot more about it in Nick's story I started writing originally.

Nick's POV

Around six I hear the Lieutenant driving up. I've been waiting for a half hour. My ride was supposed to get me at five-thirty but Lace is always late. So I always tell him to pick me up a half hour before he's supposed to. The Lieutenant is the shittiest Landcruiser on the continent. He can't take turns too sharply because it loses balance easily, but if there were a better car for the money Lace shelled out I doubt it'd have as much character.

It is all rusty and discolored. The leather seats are all cracked and he has duct tape holding the side-view mirrors on. There is a huge dent in the back, but nothing heart breaking. The wheels screech when he hits the gas. He broke the radio. Sometimes it stops working completely. Sometimes it reincarnates into a Mustang- but that hasn't happened since the one time I took acid when I was a stupid kid. But there's something about it that makes me goddamn love this fucking car. I think they have a name for love like this.

But I think most people would call it an emotional complex.

When the Lieutenant pulls up I get up and dust off my ass in case paint chips are all over it. I walk across my lawn and reach for the door handle. It goes shooting past me as Lace hits the gas. He miscalculates and goes right up onto the "curb" (it's isn't really a curb, it's an inch off of the street) and goes into the Stop sign.

I laugh watching as he backs up like he just recoiled from a hit. The engine cuts and gets out. "Fuck," He says, he's freaked out a little. He walks around and looks at the front bumper. He picks at it a little. "Huh, not even a scratch." He smiles a little.

"You're the worst driver ever," I say in between laughs. Me and Lace laugh like goddamn maniacs when shit like this happens.

He looks up at me kicking the bumper softly. "I may not be the best," He said. "But I'm the luckiest fucking driver out there." I have to roll my eyes at that. I sit down in my passenger seat. He walks over getting in and sitting down behind the wheel. "Besides, you're no expert. ***********************************?"

I roll my eyes. "That was just bad luck." I say. "I'm a good driver."

He turns on the engine again and reaches forward. Lace is the only person on the planet to still use cassette tapes. He flips it over and just sticks it back in. He rolls his eyes at me as he does it. "Keep telling yourself that, kid," He says laughing a little.

I look at the dashboard putting my feet up on it. "You're airbags didn't even go off," I say snorting. "You're going through the windshield someday, dude. I put money on it."

He starts driving slowly by the Stop sign looking at it. It's crooked now a little. Maybe my head was tilted a little, but it looked pretty crooked. "Tell your mum I didn't mean to." He said. "Say you wanted to drive tonight and drove up and hit it."

I snort again. "You're such a joke, you know that," I shift in the uncomfortable seat. Its soft cushion covered with cheap leather. I push down harder on the dashboard with my feet. He turns up the radio some more and nods his head. I don't know if he's nodding at what I just said or the music.