We never saw it coming

FULL DISCLOSURE – this story involves skipping school. And skipping school – although exhilarating and rebellious – it is bad. Like grounding bad. Yes, I should have been grounded for what I’m about to tell you, but I wasn’t – but June was.

It was a typical grey wintery day in Catana. The snow banks were piled so high that you could barely see the on-coming traffic. And on this randomly regular weekday, we were gifted with the freedom every teenager desires… to borrow the parental car to drive to school.

June’s dad was away on business. His car was tucked safely in the garage awaiting his return. On this fine morning, she had the courage to ask her mom to take his car to school. June carefully presented an itinerary of how the day would unfold; outlining where she would go with the car and who would be with her. As added insurance, she kindly reminded her mom of her outstanding grades, obedient nature and a cross-your-heart-hope-to-die promise to come straight home after school.

Her mom conceded to June’s justification, and handed her the keys.

I walked to June’s house that special morning to enjoy the chauffeured ride over the highway to Duke of York – in shotgun too! We felt invincible. We felt rebellious. We felt – so – FREE.

In the car we chatted about our day, knowing that we had a spare just before lunch. And spare plus lunch equals adventure – like driving out to surprise visit my boyfriend at his house in the next town.

June was the more responsible-ish one in our twosome, so this would take some convincing. She was hesitant to go because her parents were not shy to ground her should anything happen. But today was different – she was different. This was the first year she was the only Falkenham at Duke (her older sister had graduated the previous year), so there was no one to rat on her if she agreed. She even risked parking in the teacher’s lot. I barely recognized this curly-haired girl. She channeled her inner rebellion and told me to meet her in the foyer after third period.

The bell rang and we booked it for the car. We were so giddy. Leaving the school grounds without telling a soul, knowing we were about to embark on a super-secret micro-adventure together. Now, the town my boyfriend lived in was exactly 35 minutes from school – and we had 125 minutes to make this happen. So, if you do the math – driving there (35 mins), and back (35 mins) plus a stop to pick up Subway sandwiches (20 mins), giving us a total of 35 mins to eat and visit. We had this schedule down! Or so we thought.

June and I made it to Jim’s house without a hitch. He was still asleep (typical boy) – but was happy to see us nonetheless. We ate lunch together, had a few laughs then headed back to school.

We were driving through the countryside with our mix tapes cranked and laughing all the way back to Duke. We were on a straight stretch of road between cornfields when we heard the sirens. June looked in her rearview and saw the flashing lights right on our tail, and pulled over. We panicked. How fast were we going? Could they hear the curse words coming from our stereo? Did they know we were ditching school?

We scrambled to look for insurance, registration and anything in between that could get us out of this – but the cop never came to the car. He just sat there. We figured he was running our plates and could tell right away that June was not a middle-aged man named Larry.

As we sat there losing our minds, we noticed a gentle rumble getting louder and louder. We thought, holy crap, they sent in the cavalry! But no, it wasn’t. Instead of being greeted by a perturbed police officer, then followed by parental disapproval, and a possible grounding – we were greeted by a parade of modular home pieces being driven to their new lot with police escorts. We had been pulled over… by a house!?

Talk about a hilariously terrifying turn of events.

Once the police car behind us left, we were able to breathe again. We pulled away and carefully and drove just under the speed limit back to school not saying a word.

Since we had escaped what felt like a near-death-experience, June parked in the teacher’s lot again – the dark side was strong in this one today. She was still a little nervous from the afternoon and ended up parking the car a little too close to the snowbank. “No biggie,” she said, as she slowly put the car in reverse. We giggled at the fact that we could see the license plate imprint in the snow as we walked back to class. We had made our mark on the day. Literally.

After school was over, we were free as can be again. June drove me home, then headed to hers. We both felt like we had gotten away with so much that day. Completely unscathed. Completely incognito.

But did we, really?

With everything that happened that white knuckled wintery day – when June’s dad got home – he noticed something was a little “off” on his car. We hadn’t left a mess, a tape in the cassette player or any crumbs – so we figured we were upstanding teenage citizens who were trusted with an adult’s car. But we were in trouble. Big trouble.

So, what got us busted?

Was it the skipping? No.

How about the taking the car on a mini road trip during the day? Nope.

Must have been being stopped by police? Nuh, uh.

It was the license plate!

What we observed as some comic relief from an exciting day, ended with the license plate on Larry’s Buick coming loose and now was hanging off the front of the car. <face palm> Thanks snowbank.

The lesson here kids is a magical one. No matter what you do, your parents will find out. They may not say anything, but they just... know. Parents have some sick skill set that we kids are not privy to. They see things. They notice things.

Like their license plates.

Love,

Patricia