She blasted the radio as we whizzed down the street, and we both ended up singing along loudly to Taylor Swift's Trouble.
But then we saw the flashing of a siren and Bea had to pull over, cursing in the middle of a laugh.
"Kat, you deal with this one." she said suddenly, making me stiffen.
But by then it was too late to do anything, a cop tapping on the window.
Bea rolled it down and grinned at me.
I leaned over her, looking out into the night. The guy looked like a rookie, considering his age, not bad overall with his deep brown hair and eyes.
"Hello, officer." I beamed, letting one of the ears flop down towards my head, "How can we help you?"
His eyes nearly goggled out of his head when he saw Bea, even more so when he saw me.
"I'm afraid you ladies were considerably above the speed limit."
"Really?" I asked with a surprised expression, "I guess we just like things fast, officer."
He coughed, using his notebook as a fan.
"Are you under the influence of alcohol? Would you be willing to take a breathalyzer test?"
"Bea," I said, with my eyes widened in mock innocence, "The officer wants you to blow for him."
The poor guy blushed profusely, clearing his throat. He might have been about to say something, but I cut him off.
"Do you like bunnies, officer?" I asked cheekily, twirling a strand of my hair around a finger.
A few minutes later we were cruising down the road again, laughing like maniacs.
"Did you see his expression?" I wheezed, getting a stitch in my side.
"That was a grand total of two minutes fifteen seconds! A new record!" she looked at me and laughed again, "You know, you got pretty lucky. Usually I have to deal with chubby old guys and the like. When they get too old or seem totally uninterested I have to make up a sobstory about being late for a funeral."
I snorted, clicking on my seatbelt.
"I am never doing this again for you, Bea. Ever."
She pouted, giving me puppy dog eyes.
"But the guy was cute! You gave him your number, didn't you?"
"Uh, about that," I laughed, "I gave him the number for Castel Gandolfo."
"The pizza place?" Bea asked incredulously, to which I nodded and we both started laughing again.
Beatrice looked at me curiously afterwards.
"I don't get it. You had that guy wrapped around your little finger, and you got rid of those sleazebags like anybody's business. How the hell are you single?"
"I've learned to read people. I've never really had time for a relationship like that. I guess I'm just scared that all guys are..."
Like my dad.
I was thankful when Bea kept talking.
"What, going to take advantage of you? I'm not going to lie, it happens, but you have to trust eventually. How else will you find out if you've met Mr. Right?"
"What if I don't want to find out?"
Beatrice looked at me like I'd grown two heads at once.
"What's it going to lead to, anyways?" I replied, fiddling with my nails, "Dating, sex, marriage, children? Being middle-aged with a spouse that drives you up the wall and a bunch of kids that keep you from living your life, having affairs and wishing for freedom? Dying as someone chained down to a bunch of expectations and responsibilities? What if I don't want that?"
She stared, gape-mouthed. We were at my apartment right then so she pulled over, giving me time to step out and shut the door.
I waved as she left, but I couldn't see her wave back. She was probably still thinking about my miniature speech.
I sighed and turned around, heading up to my flat. I was still thinking about it too.