"Mom?" the fair haired young woman looked to her mother, who was driving their car.
"Yes Sweetie?" the older woman looked at daughter. 'She's grown so fast. It's hard to believe that only a pair of decades ago in the same position she is.'
"Well, I was wondering if you would tell me a story," she cast hopeful eyes to her mother.
"A story? Like when you were younger?" her eyes gave away the merriment she felt at her daughter's request.
"Sort of. A more mature story. But a story never the less."
"Why do you want me to tell you a story? But I haven't told you a story since you were six!" she laughed.
"I know, but I was just thinking about I much I loved your stories. They were always better than most of the books I had to read. Besides, the radio is busted and I want to listen to something worth listening to," she turned to face her mother as best she could with a seatbelt on.
"Oh, really. Well, thank you, but the only one I can recall at the moment is a pretty long story."
"Mom, we're driving across the frickin' country. I think we've got some time on our hands."
"Are you sure?" she cast a sideways glance at her daughter, waiting for her answer.
"I'm the one who asked in the first place remember?"
She rolled her eyes at her daughter. "You know it's scary how much like me you turned out to be."
"Don't remind me," she replied with a grin, "just kidding. You know I love ya right?"
"Of course. You would have to, to let me be the one bugging you across the country."
"You don't bug me."
"I know. I love ya too kiddo. So, story?"
"Alright. What kind of story?"
"I want a story with romance and drama!"
"Good, cause this long story I have has just those specifications."
"Cool. So start the tale."
"Well, when it comes to stories I guess it's best to start at the beginning. Because well, it always seemed to me showing the end and then explaining what happened ruins the whole thing. It's like buying a book and reading the last two pages and then the rest. There's no possibility and isn't that what stories are really about? The possibilities you want and then seeing how close you come to the end? But moving on-"
"Thank God! I thought we might get there before you even started the story!"
Her mother turned to her and blew a raspberry. "Oh, please. California to Florida is a longer drive than five minutes."
"I was kidding. Please continue," she gave her mother a pouty look.
"Okay. Okay. So, it was quite a few years ago, as I recall, back when I was your age. It's about a couple of friends of mine back then."
'I was sitting on a bench in front of my high school, reading a book. I don't even remember what it was about, but that's not the point. I got bored with it and stopped, and put it away. As I did noticed a new girl walking past me. I could tell she was new because she looked scared out of her mind. I knew that look because it was one I, myself, had worn only a year prior. I took it upon myself to help her out. It was something I had to do. I never could stand not knowing anyone on my first days, so I decided she shouldn't have to either. Grabbing my bag I walked over to her and introduced myself.
"Hi, I'm Buffy."
"H-hi, I-I'm Tara."