1987, Interstate 9, California
The engine of her mother's red Mercedes convertible growled down the pitch black I9.
The still warm ocean breeze could still be felt up here in the hills and it whipped her long honey brown hair around her as she pushed her foot a little harder to the floor, letting the electric guitar solo of the latest rock hit to blast from the tinny speakers as loud as she dared as she sped down the highway toward town.
A confusing mix of emotions stabbed at her heart. She'd managed to stay away for the past four years but there was no escaping it now.
As she drove down the hill at a dangerous speed, she gripped the steering wheel tighter and rounded the corner quickly, tyres screaming against the asphalt, and there it was, her first glimpse of the bright, far away lights of Santa Carla and the dark ocean beyond. Her blood ran cold.
Visions haunted her memories as she raced toward Santa Carla and she clenched her jaw, her face hardening. Her Mom was wrong, time did not heal all wounds, this one was still raw and painful.
Would he even still be there? She thought and instantly cursed herself for thinking it.
She wasn't here for him; she was here for Lori, and yet, remembered images of his frustratingly handsome face flashed to the fore of her mind and she struck the steering wheel hard with the heel of her hand, letting out a groan at the way her stomach performed summersaults and the mere thought of him.
Twisting the volume all the way up on the radio to drown out all thoughts of him, she brushed her hair behind her ear and glanced at her reflection in the rear-view mirror. Enough she told herself, looking into her dark eyes and she tried to instead think of the reason she was returning to Santa Carla. Her friend's wedding, a nice, happy thing to be coming home to, she tried to smile but the knot in her stomach continued to twist and her heart thrummed against her chest.
It wasn't long before she was heading down the main street along the promenade toward Lori's house on the other side of town.
She thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest as she passed the heaving Boardwalk but she just gripped the steering wheel tighter and refused to look anywhere but ahead of her, not at the Boardwalk lights, not at the end of the pier, not at the Video Max, nothing but dead ahead. All of a sudden, a bright headlight flashed in her rear-view mirror and a punk on a dirt bike screamed past her as quick as lightning. Pushing the palm of her hand to her chest to steady her racing heart, she took a few steadying breaths, the sound of the motorcycle sending deep chills to run through her. Putting the car back in gear she slowly continued down the road, a scowl set on her delicate features, hating the way the sound had instantly made her think of him...
...
Her name was on the wind...
The first time it floated to him it was barely more than a breath, wafting in off the ocean.
He ignored it.
The second time it was a whisper, somewhere around the Ferris Wheel and if his heart still beat, he was pretty sure it would be racing.
As the night continued on, he couldn't ignore it any longer, the whole Boardwalk seemed to vibrate with the sound of her name.
"What's the deal, bro?" one questioned.
"Nothing" he growled as he stood, looking out at the mass of people on the boardwalk, his cold eyes searching the crowd carefully. "C'mon" he said sighing heavily in defeat, but just before he turned away, his attention was caught by the sound of an obnoxious dirt bike hurtling down the prom, it tore past a girl in a red Mercedes...his breath hitched in the back of his throat.
It was her.
She was back.
