1970s, Texas

𝒞arl parked his old pickup truck right between two brand-new cars, their tires spotless and looking like they'd just rolled off the showroom floor. His old red truck was a far cry from the grime, its color dull and lifeless, while the cars next to it shone as if freshly polished. I should wash this thing… he thought.

He glanced at the small overhead mirror to tidy his hair. It needed a trim, but it wasn't bad. His grandmother's old rosary hung from the mirror, its small red wooden beads and crucifix dangling from it.

He watched as people began to leave the school and got out. His truck stood out, but not for the best reasons. He closed the door behind him and walked toward the entrance, not all the way, stopping halfway where the American flag was flying, waving in the sunny day.

Rich kids were leaving the school. It was easy to distinguish the different social groups. Some girls wore bandanas and bell-bottoms, boys wore football jackets, others wore shirts that were a bit too colorful for their taste, and some girls wore short skirts and polka-dot shirts.

You were one of those girls. A short but not too short skirt, long tights, impeccable shoes, a fitted shirt, and a high ponytail that swayed with every step you took. You carried your purse on one arm and some books in the other. Carl had told you a couple of times that you needed to buy a bigger purse, as if you didn't already have a whole collection, but this one matched your skirt perfectly.

You said goodbye to your friends as soon as you saw him and walked toward him. He smiled and gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

— "Hey, sweet girl." — he said with a smile, taking the books from your arm to carry them with him, and his free arm went around your shoulders, starting to walk toward his truck.