Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Naruto. I also do not own "Broken Hearts, Torn Up Letters, And the Story of a Lonely Girl" by Lostprophets. However, that song rocks, and so does the band. Check them out.
Manic Monday
Author: IsleofSolitude
"That was definitely the wrong cup."
"Again? Stop stealing my caffeine."
"Maybe you should hold onto it then."
"It burns though!"
Sakura ignored the squabbling from her car mates in lieu of double checking her blind spot and merging into the next lane. Waving at the car who let her over, she rolled her eyes after realizing the argument. Deciding to ignore it for now, she checked the A/C and groaned. "Hinata, would you roll down your window? Vivian's having her hot flashes again."
The black haired woman riding shotgun smiled and obliged, both women ignoring the scoffing "Who names a car Vivian? I mean, really?"
Rolling the other three windows down and grateful that only one button didn't work, Sakura cheerfully shot back over her shoulder, "At least I have a car to name!"
In the backseat, a masculine chuckle distracted an ice blue glare away from the driver. Sakura fiddled with the radio, trying to find a good station that wasn't boring talk shows or bad songs with even worse commercials. "C'mon guys, tone down the U-S-T. I know it's hot, but we are almost there and at least there's a great breeze." Reluctant but sincere agreements came from the backseat (Along with the sole male passenger questioning "U-S-T?") while Hinata simply smiled at her.
"Oh, go back!"
The pink haired driver quickly followed her blonde friend's order, having heard the chorus to a fantastic song. Cranking the volume up, she nudged Hinata and winked. "This is your song. Take the lyrics to heart, my bashful sweetheart!"
"And there's no destiny when everyone's your enemy, take your jealous heart and cast it into stone, you'll regret it all, living behind your wall, you'll never fall in love if you don't fall at all!" Sakura sang, bouncing along. She could feel Kiba starting air drums, and Ino harmonizing with her. Hinata was still just smiling and chuckling. Knowing how down her friend had been lately, Sakura grabbed the girl's hand and tried to get her to dance like they were clubbing. Hinata shook her head, laughing, and tried to pull her hand away, but Sakura clung tightly. As the last words were coming up, Sakura pulled Hinata's hand closer and crooned into it, "Girl you just can't dance forever, if you want to make it better, times like these don't last forever…"
Finished using Hinata's hand as her microphone, she smiled up at her friend, noticing the blushing but smiling cheeks. However, before she could say anything, her jade eyes focused on an unforeseen sight: The car in the lane to her right had the driver's window down as well. Due to the highway's tiny lanes, the car was incredibly close to her passenger side. And the very close, very open window contained a very gorgeous dark haired man staring at her. Despite the loud music, Sakura could tell her friends had fallen silent, also seeing him.
Determined to save the moment from an awkward death, she gave a (hesitant) small smile and waved at him, realizing only after the face that she had used the hand clutching Hinata's. The (dazzling) man raised one eyebrow, and Sakura could feel her face burning but (couldn't) wouldn't look away, maintaining eye contact even as the man's super dark (was that amount of tint even legal?) window was rolled up. The instant it was completely closed she let go of her passenger's hand and slumped in her seat, head briefly lowering to the steering wheel.
Kiba, Ino, and Hinata burst out laughing. Sakura cringed again before sitting up straight, glad that her lane was moving again and she could get away from the handsome stranger who didn't even have to say a word to make her blush over her antics. Hinata took pity on her and turned the radio off.
They were almost to their exit when Ino broke the silence.
"Hey, Forehead…"
"Yeah?"
"Happy Monday."
*peeks out from a box* Hi there! This is my attempt at a humor fic. This idea came from recent morning commutes, where I've danced like an idiot and no one has paid attention (because of their lovely cellphones) combined with the time I was with my best friend at a stop light and used her hand as a microphone, only to realize that 3 firemen were watching us from their truck. Ah, memories.
I'm not opposed to continuing this, but unless I get inspiration for a next chapter, I am leaving it as a one-shot. Suggestions are more than welcome!