Foreman slumped back in his seat for a second, releasing his death-clutch on the steering wheel. He couldn't get the damn car to do what he wanted, and he needed a second to remind himself that it didn't matter. That second gave Amber the chance she needed to make her getaway. Foreman sighed--partly frustrated, but mostly determined to at least make a good showing of himself. He cut off the curve Amber was travelling so that he could catch up. He could plot the exact moment he was going to crash into her, giving her the same jolt she'd given him. His attention narrowed down, and he was invested, now. He'd show her who could catch whom. Foot depressing the gas pedal as far as it would go, Foreman hunched up, bracing himself for the impact.

Which was when the lights came on, the music and shrieks stopped, and the cars went dead.

Foreman groaned, joining the general chorus of all the teenagers shouting in disappointment. They were all yelling for just five more minutes, but Foreman at least had the dignity not to expect that. His bumper was about a foot away from Amber's car--it had been that close. Foreman rested his elbows on his knees and shook his head at her, a reluctant smile curving his mouth. "I would have gotten you," he said, half-resigned to the fact that she'd mock him for not making it, and half-amused that he'd gotten involved in this game despite himself. Again.

Unlocking his belt, Foreman stood up and stepped across to Amber's car. There wasn't any door that he could open for her, so he just waited for her to get free of the thing. He felt better, though, than he had before they'd started, and he wanted to be close to her. He wanted to laugh with her over all the ridiculous things they'd done tonight; hold her hand and lean in close as they walked down the midway. He hoped she felt the same.