Touch me. Touch me like you didn't touch me last night.

           When the next car went past, Angie threw a handful of gravel at it. Tires squealed and the car came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road. The silver Acura’s ruby tail lights dimmed as the driver slammed it into Park.

            The side door opened and out stepped out, a thin man with the sort of beard that only comes in unsightly, knotted patches. He left his door open, the engine idling, and started walking back down the gravel road.

            “Which of you two little shits did that?” he scowled, looking back and forth between Angie and Joe. Both of them stood up from the shoulder and raised their hands, each of which was holding a largish rock.

            The driver paused for a moment, then made his way for Joe, a good three feet past Angie. As he grabbed Joe by the shirt, Angie started walking towards the car.

            “Don’t you go anywhere, you bitch!” he shouted.

            Joe took a few steps backwards, his t-shirt stretching. The driver turned his head back around.

            “Don’t you fucking move, either!”

            Angie kept walking towards the car and John kept walking backwards. The driver decided that the car was more important to him, and released the shirt.

            “Don’t touch my car!” he screamed. Angie stopped and turned in place.

            “Stop me,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless.

            The driver started walking towards the girl, his fists clenched in fury. Angie didn’t move, and when he’d nearly made it to her, a rock flew past his ear, smashing the rear passenger window of the Acura.

            “You fucking bastard!” the man shouted and started running towards Joe, who also stood unmoving. The driver grabbed Joe’s shirt again and drew back his fist, just in time to hear an engine revving. Angie waved at the two of them from inside the Acura. She adjusted the rear-view mirror and shifted the seat forward.

            Joe started laughing and pulled the man’s hand from his shirt.

            “You better go get your car, man. She’s a clever thief but a shitty driver.”

            The man looked Joe in the eyes, the knuckles of his fist whitening. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the car slowly begin driving away.

            “Hey, stop!” he demanded and began running.

            Angie opened the door and stepped out. She no longer had the rock in her hand, and the car continued to creep down the road.

            “God damn it!” shouted the driver as he ran towards his car. Angie easily dodged the wild punch he threw at her as she jogged back to Joe’s side. The both reached for the ground.

            The driver, having regained control of his car, was reversing at high speed. Angie and Joe straightened up, brandishing far larger rocks that before. Again the tires squealed, this time as the car raced off down the country road.

            Angie dropped her rocks, and Joe quickly followed suit. They each put an arm around the other’s waist and pulled close together.

            “I’d pull my eyes out for you, baby.”

            “I know. Let’s go back to my place.”

            They both smiled as they walked into the cornfields together.