2012 Book #24: NAKED SUMMER by Andrew Scott

By then it was dark. The moon had clouded over, and the carts don’t have lights. We were blind. We bounced over a few humps in the soil, past the burial mounds. Mainly we stayed in the rough, off the fairway. I’d been on this course long enough to know where to go.

We drove down sloping hills and valleys, in and out of rough spots, between trees. The wind blew our hair in every direction. Cassie had her arm up, her hand grabbing the roof’s overhang, where you should hold if the way gets bumpy. She wrapped her other arm around my waist. With both hands on the wheel I wondered what we looked like, two people speeding along to nowhere in the dark.

—Naked Summer by Andrew Scott