Goose

by James

Todd could not understand why I had a thing for Goose. Obviously, she was well boobed, but come on, that hair? I knew it was fake, right? She wasn’t naturally that curly, which meant that she had woke up one day and made a conscious decision to top her ruddy cheeked natural glow with nuclear white nylon fuzz.

The three of us were driving to Wales to see an old uni mate. We’d made it about ten miles before Goose insisted we stop so she could take a pee. In the age until she returned Todd speculated as to why she hadn’t seen someone about her horse teeth by now, and why not a bit of speech therapy while she was at it?

Goose had bought a drink and a flake in the petrol station shop. As she reached for the door handle Todd locked the doors and then rolled his window down a touch. Like he’d told her when she’d tried to get inside with a punnet of extra juicy overripe blackberries, it was not gonna happen. Eat the chocolate outside, she wasn’t going to make a mess of his real leather seats. He rolled up his window and then nudged me with his elbow as waggled his eyebrows – Goose nibbling on the world’s sexiest chocolate bar, that had to be giving me some sort of disturbance in the forest.

We were driving down after work so it was almost dark when we had left. Twenty minutes more on the road and it was fully dark, and not long after a low rumble started which had Todd panicking until he started to laugh – Goose was asleep. He found it so funny, the noise she was making, and even funnier still – what if I got my wish and one day woke up next to that? Though what was he saying? I would never get any sleep lying next to Goose, there were probably seismologists panicking somewhere at the noise of it.

What did I see in her? Kid she was, hadn’t I clocked her can of pop? Bubble gum flavour.

Goose was still sleeping when we pulled into the last services before we crossed the river into Wales. We left her sleeping when we went inside to use the toilets. I went mad and bought two flakes at their motorway rip off prices and then hurried to beat Todd back to the car. I was definitely going to wake Goose, and it would be the two of us sitting in Todd’s car getting chocolate everywhere as he pulled his hair out.

But no car. I turned slowly on the spot – wrong place? A squeal of rubber Todd’s car lurched to halt beside me. Goose was gripping the steering wheel tightly, barely able to see over the top of it. She was grinning, and every glorious frizzy lock of her hair was quivering with excitement. I jumped in, but I couldn’t quite believe it – she was stealing Todd’s car?

Goose sang the opening bars to Dancing Queen and grinned again. Not stealing. Kid she was, wasn’t she? So this was a joyride. Mind you, Todd’s phone and wallet he’d left in the car, who could say.

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