Don’t Know Jack

Love Me Do could be heard softly through the half-raised window of the 1961 Chevrolet Corvair. It was another warmish evening in California, even though it was the end of November. The vehicle had only been around for a few years, but had quickly become popular among high school kids. There was nothing like filling the tank for fifty cents to cruise the streets for hours after school. Every teenager wanted the freedom that came with the four-door sedan.

“Come on, Rich,” Patricia pushed the dark-haired man from her neck, where he laced her in generous kisses. She knew what would come next, his hand already itching towards her inner thigh like a deprived puppy eager for his treat.

“Well, what did you come up here with me for, Patty?” Rich groaned between his puckered, dry lips. “You weren’t in the mood last Friday either. I am a man and I have needs.”

“I just want to clear my head,” she pulled back from Rich, flipping her hair back over her tender flesh.

The cool breeze drifted into the vehicle. Rich blinked several times, taking a moment to look at the city lights of Sacramento below them.

“What do you mean? Is this about us?”

“No, Rich! We are fine. It’s just been a rough year, you know?”

“Patty, it’s our senior year. It’s supposed to be rough. Now, come on, I know a great way to relieve stress.”

“That is not what I mean, Rich, and you know it. Writing for the school paper this semester has been absolutely mind-boggling. You’ve seen the news and you read my articles, right? You know what I have had to contend with. We have the largest reader count ever and I have to make sure that what we are reporting is accurate, especially if I want to have any shot at a scholarship for college. This is my life we are talking about.

Rich sighed, pulling back into the driver’s seat. His hands gripped the wheel as though he were thinking of starting the car and pulling away from their cozy spot right then and there. Life planning was not on the agenda when you were parked on ‘the hill’. This was not how he wanted to spend his evening.

Patricia did not seem to notice, “Alcatraz closed this year. The racial rights movement has reached its peak sending my father off the deep end. The Pope died and now the President has been murdered! This is the perfect time to be a journalist!”

“I know, Patty!” Richard flinched. Jack Kennedy’s death yesterday would likely haunt Richard and Patricia for the rest of their lives. She really did not need to remind him of the nation’s loss in this precise moment.

“Well, you don’t seem to care. It’s a big deal you know!”

“Do we have to talk about this right now?”

Patricia’s jaw could have collided with the bucket seats between her tapered trousers. She harrumphed in a non-ladylike fashion, twisting her head to look through the cracked window. The headband on her head slipped from the quick movement. She quickly readjusted it, pulling at the hair that flipped upwards at the ends.

Rich matched her body language, locking his jaw and turning to stare out his own window. He grinded his teeth in frustration before finally hitting the steering wheel.

Patricia glowered, her eyebrows arching, “If you are going to act like a barbarous hooligan, Richard Fisch, then you can take me home!”

“Patricia Fallon,” Richard mocked, using her full name as well, “I will take you home when I am good and ready!”

Patricia gasped, “I never –

Richard grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to him. Her words were silenced as he kissed her heavily on the lips. It was likely that there was even a hint of tongue amongst the slobber. He wanted to forget the troubled world, forever locked in a moment of young passion.

When he pulled away, she opened her mouth to protest, “I –

Again, he pulled the young blonde to him, embracing her with all his might and restricting her movements with his manly strength. After several seconds, it was found that she kissed him back. A smile formed under the pressure of their interlocked lips.

Richard laughed heartily as he pulled away, “If you could just stop talking once in a while, things wouldn’t be so bad.”

“It will take more than a handsome boy kissing me to keep me quiet,” Patricia scoffed.

“We will see about that!” Richard moved forward again for another exploration of the girl in his passenger seat.

The rapping of fingers on his window interrupted his advancement. The noise caused the young boy to nearly jump out of his skin. Patricia’s eyes widened at the sight of her father hovering over the Corvair.

Rich twisted his head slowly to see the burly man in the suit standing outside of his vehicle. In the moment that passed, he found himself thankful he was still wearing his pants.

The gruff voice of the man boomed, “This is not the movie theater, Rich.”

“Quiet right, Mr. Fallon. It is not.”

“Do not get smart with me, boy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get out of the car, Patricia. We are going home. With all that has happened this year, I do not need my daughter pregnant to top things off.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Patricia clicked the handle to the door. Before exiting the car, she quickly leaned over and gave Richard a peck on the cheek.

Richard sat speechless for several minutes after Mr. Fallon’s vehicle left him sitting alone on ‘the hill’. The night had not been productive in the way that he had hoped, but Richard did know one thing. He was going to make Patricia Fallon his wife.

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