Dont turn the iPod on just yet.
I look over at my mom, holding the cherry red mp3 player in my hand, curious. Why not?
She presses a button, turning the radio on. Our normal station, Magic 95.5, starts to play. We listen to it every morning during the drive to my school; sometimes I listen to it, sometimes Im awake enough to talk with Erika. Most of the time I sleep. Its a hit or miss station, playing mostly soft rock and oldies songs. Every now and then lightning strikes and a song I love plays, but thats mostly in the evening, and this was the afternoon. At this time, the radio was overtaken by Mary J. Blige and, as of late, Paula Abdul. I would much rather listen to a musical on the iPod, or something akin to that, than have a Paula Abdul song running rampant in my mind for the entire trip.
But now is different. Were not driving the familiar drive to Westwood High School. Were driving out and away, and we wont be going back. Our bags are in the trunk, Ive got a book and a DS to amuse me, though Ill probably just fall asleep as I always do on long car trips, and our two cats are in their carriers, hopefully succumbing to the kitty sleeping drug we gave them so that they wouldnt drive us completely insane.
We wont be going back, and I realize what my mom means and why her eyes and mine are tearing up just the slightest bit.
Yeah. Lets let it play until we lose the signal.