A Song for Julia

one.”
    “Go, before we change our minds!” Mark called.
    I nodded, and as I ran toward the back door, Serena shouted, “Crank! That was the best show yet!”
    I pumped a fist in the air then hit the back door, slamming it open with a bang.
    The crappy car I bought earlier this week was for this sole purpose. Sometimes my dad was on shift on the weekend, despite the fact that he shouldn’t be on patrol at night at his age. But it was what it was. Mrs. Doyle would come over those nights if I had a show, but she couldn’t say past two A.M. and getting from wherever the hell I might be to Southie by two could be a real problem on the T. The car meant I could almost guarantee being there on time.
    I pumped the gas pedal three times then cranked the car, only relaxing once the ancient engine came to life. It was wheels, but not exactly high end. Did I give a shit? No. I did not give a shit. It was going to do the job. I pulled out in the parking lot and drove toward the exit. I checked my watch. One fifteen. I should be there in plenty of time.
    Too late, I saw the reverse lights whiten on a car to my right. It backed out, very suddenly, and I only had time to shout in alarm when it slammed into the passenger side of my car. Glass went flying, and I shouted a curse. My whole body went into adrenaline shock, and I threw open the driver side door.
    The entire passenger side of the car was crumpled in, and the right front wheel twisted at a crazy angle. “Goddamn it!” I screamed and stalked over to the other car.
    It was a brand new Honda hybrid, the bumper crumpled in a little, but with little other damage. I was shaking with rage when the driver of the other car opened the door, and they hadn’t even got out before I shouted, “Why the hell weren’t you watching where you were going? You could have killed someone!”
    The driver got out and turned toward me. She was shaking, in shock, and probably in fear with me screaming. And then I recognized her.
    Holy shit. I stared in shock. This couldn’t be happening. It was Julia.
    I shook my head in disbelief. What in God’s name was she doing here?
    “Oh, my God,” she blurted out. “I am so sorry!” She saw the damage to the car and raised her hands to her mouth. Then her eyes darted back to me, and I think only then did she recognize me, because they widened suddenly, and she muttered again, “Oh, my God.”
    Slowly, now. Calm down. I took another deep, shuddering breath, then said, “You seriously could have killed someone. What were you thinking?”
    She shook her head. “I … I … oh God.”
    This time she completely covered her face. She spoke through her hands. “I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for the damage. It was an accident.”
    I blinked, confused by her reaction. Of course, it was an accident. What else could it be?
    “I … kinda assumed that. Unless you were trying to kill me.”
    She looked up from behind her hands then and shook her head rapidly.
    By this time, two or three people from the club were approaching. Some guy, obviously drunk, said, “Fuuuuck,” then leaned over to puke behind a car.
    I checked my watch. Jesus Christ. It was 1:25. “Listen … Julia. I gotta go. I’m pushing the damn car into a spot, and then I gotta catch a cab to Southie to watch my brother. Give me your number, and we’ll settle this … tomorrow.”
    She nodded. “I can give you a ride. I am so, so sorry.”
    I opened my mouth to answer and closed it. Fine. “That’d be great.”
    It was official. She was frickin’ nuts. But, whatever. I needed to get to Southie and catching a cab all the way from Somerville at this time of night was going to be a huge problem, anyway.
    So, I put the car in neutral and got a couple of the drunks to help roll it back into a vacant spot. The car had a serious wobble now. I didn’t have to worry about locking it up. There weren’t any passenger side windows, anyway. I just grabbed the keys, took my guitar case out of the back seat, and trotted over to her car.
    “Okay,” I said, trying to catch my breath.
    She nodded quickly then got in the car. I reached for the passenger side door, but it was locked. She was inside, staring at the wheel and still shaking. I sighed, then walked around to the driver’s side. “You’re a little shook up. Want me to drive?”
    “What?” she asked, startled. The problem wasn’t her being shook up. She was just somewhere else entirely. Drunk? Maybe, I don’t know.
    “Um …