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January 28, 2002
I only say she was a cheerleader because she never stopped moving in the passenger seat. Hands twirling to the same pace of the music blaring from the top 40 radio station. I think it was KISS-FM. The occasional hand and arm thrust.

Half “Bring It On”. Half “Saturday Night Fever”.

Her red Nikes would pop out of the open window. Kick, kick, shake and ball change. Head bop and twist to the left and back to the right. I watched in amazement. When was the last time I had so much pent-up energy that just had to be released?