Maybe she could start roller-skating again, during the summer.

The hills and sharp turns close to Louisville and a truck horn shook her out of her reverie.

Lauren jolted awake. Disoriented, her eyes peeped open and her head bobbed erratically. To Linda, she looked like a little robin searching after a dangling worm.

"Scared me half to death!" Lauren said.

Linda was glad it happened: now she'd have someone to talk to. "I was thinking we could get back in time for my class." She looked down at her watch, never having changed it during their short time in Cincinnati.

"You're gonna try to go to class? You're crazy!"

"Sure I am. He said he was going to cover some important stuff today."

Lauren shook her head. "Well, what time is your class?"

"Three."

"And what time is it?"

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"Just past ten thirty."

Lauren straightened up righteously and turned to her, glancing at the road signs. "We're not even in Louisville yet. There's more than four hours to go. You're not going to make it."

"Where did you learn to count, dingleberry? That gives us four and a half hours."

"Get behind some semis."

"What?"

"You know. Big trucks. Like that one that honked his horn and scared the shit out of me back there. You might be able to drive faster."

On that Thursday morning, only trucks shared the road with them. They probably looked like a pea rolling along between two soda cans. "How is getting behind a truck going to help me go faster?"

Lauren shook her head and glanced up the roof. "They have CB's. And they know where the speed traps are."

Linda sped up to get behind one of them, with a gleaming silver trailer.

"Let's see if you're right."

"Just look up to make sure you can see the guy's face in the mirror on the side."

"Why?"

"So I can flirt with his ass." Lauren paused, grinning widely.

Linda wondered whether her friend was pulling her leg. It was a game they'd played all year: Lauren would make an outrageous comment or suggestion in a straight face. Most times Linda would go along until Lauren started laughing hard. "Flirt with him? He's probably in his forties with a big beer gut. Lauren laughed at her. "Gotcha! No, it's so that the guy can see you and knows you're behind him. We're you asleep in Driver Ed class?"




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