The CD reached its end with a mechanical click, leaving a ringing silence in the car.
As they hit the highway, the playlist transitioned into the sun-drenched power chords of Leo tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, perfectly in time with the snare hits. He remembered the first time he heard this song—at a backyard BBQ where the burgers were burnt and the girls wore butterfly clips.
The windows of Leo’s beat-up 2004 sedan were rolled down so far they’d practically disappeared into the doors. In the passenger seat, Maya was digging through a spindle of scratched CDs until she found it: a Sharpie-labeled disc titled