"Could you come over please? I... I...oh, God, David, please just come over!" I'll be right there," I said, and hung up. I jumped out of bed and threw...on a pair of old, faded jeans and a t- shirt. I slid my naked feet into some topsiders and ran down the stairs, grabbing my carkeys as I went out the front door. My new car, a 69 Mustang, sat in the driveway, sleek and silent. Dad had given it to me for my 17th birthday a few weeks ago, and it was the love of my life. I jumped in and fired it up,. Just different, you know.”Her eyes open. “Do you like me? You know.” A forward question, from a forward girl.Yes. Wait. Maybe? “Maybe.”“Good.”“Good?” I responded in a voice choked by something like a cough. “How is it good?”A smile. “It shows you care about me. And if not me, then people in general. I care about you, you know. More than you know, probably.”“Wouldn’t surprise me.”Another laugh. “Typical you.” She straightened out in the bed in a long stretch. “Man, now I’m horny. What did you. Once I got my arm around her, I didn't know what else to do and left it there so long my arm was numb when the movie was over.To show what a naïve kid I was back then, I wrote this god awful poem about my love for her. It was probably the worst writing of my entire life. It's a wonder she didn't vomit reading it.I remember one night we went to the drive-in and somewhere in our making out, her belt broke. No — I never had sex with her. She was too special for me for that. Anyway, I was scared to. It wasn't until we were almost halfway home when we were able to begin to share our respective stories. To my utter amazement, Erin had driven to the airport in my car – the same one that had been left behind near my insurance office on that fateful evening a couple of years ago. Eventually, I got around to commenting on it."Wait a minute," I blurted out. "This is my car! You still have it, after all this time?" I didn't know what to do with it," explained Erin. "It's in both of our names, so I.