The car sledded down the sloped street, fishtailing between the curb and a row of parked cars. Liza flicked an ash out the window and cursed at nothing in particular. Bruce warned her four or five times not to park on Lippincott, now she was going to have to endure an “I told you so”. The narrow side street sat in the shadow of her new building. It was a sheet of ice for weeks after it snowed. The Focus glided by a group of oblivious students who were walking in the street. Just before the intersection, the car slid sideways and beached itself against a giant pile of snow. Super.
Bruce was going to be here at any minute. Liza tossed the cigarette, turned off the radio, flung the car into reverse, and hit the gas. The car lurched backwards about a foot before getting stuck. A spray of snow flew out from under the spinning tires and onto the sidewalk. One of the professors from Graphic Design was walking by. He managed to hop backwards to avoid being turned into a human snowman. The professor scowled and gave Liza a dirty look. Liza smiled and waved him on. When he was past, Liza switched the car to drive and turned the wheel hard. It sailed past the snow mountain and into the middle of the street. Bruce and Jim rounded the corner and stopped. Of course.
Jim said something to Bruce, waved at Liza, and skate-smiled his way across the street. Bruce opened the passenger door and leaned inside. “Do you want me to drive?”
Liza feigned nonchalance. “No. Why?”
Bruce turned and looked at the snow pile. “No reason,” he said. He jumped in and closed the door. Liza refused to look at him as they coasted through campus. She knew that he would be wearing his tongue-in-cheek smile. At the next light, he leaned over and kissed the side of her mouth. Liza turned and kissed him back. The light changed. They coasted on.
“So, what do you want to do for dinner?” asked Bruce. “Do you want to pick something up, or do you want to see what we have at home?”