In the Rearview

Robert had always dreamed of owning something so fast.

After years of grinding—working overtime shifts at the mechanic shop, living modestly, and funneling every spare dollar into a savings account—Robert finally made it happen. Years of saving and he was finally able to get what he’d always wanted: straight off the lot, a black, 2018 Corvette Z06.  But instead of speeding off, his first thought was Amanda.

They had been together for almost a year now. He still remembered how nervous he’d been to ask her out—how he’d lingered at the café counter long after his coffee was done, just to think of something clever to say. Amanda was smart, grounded, and always a few steps ahead of him in conversation. She was studying psychology, working part-time, and still made time for him, even when his hands were stained with grease and his jeans smelled like the shop. She had a calmness that balanced him, and though she rolled her eyes every time he talked about “saving for the beast,” she’d been quietly cheering him on the whole time.

He wanted her to be the first person to see it.

That morning, he texted her: “Be ready at 7. Dress like we’re going somewhere fancy. It’s a surprise.”

She replied with a heart emoji and a single word: “Intrigued.”

Now, parked a block away from her apartment, Robert could barely contain his excitement. He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror—hair combed, shirt ironed, face still carrying a crooked grin—and then at the time. 6:58 p.m.

Right on cue, Amanda stepped outside. She was wearing a deep green dress that hugged her frame and a confused smile as she scanned the street. Robert pulled up slowly, the headlights washing over her like a spotlight. As soon as she saw the car, her eyes widened.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, laughing as he stepped out and opened the passenger door for her.

“This,” he said, motioning proudly to the Z06, “is our ride for the evening.”

“Robert,” she said, half in disbelief, “Is this your car?”

“Yep,” he said. “Bought it yesterday. Thought I’d break it in with the only person who’s had more patience than my savings account.”

Amanda leaned in, eyes still wide. “You really did it.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Told you I would.”

She kissed him before stepping in. “Alright then, show me what this thing can do.”

And with that, they roared off into the night.

The sports car's polished surface perfectly reflected the street lights of his city’s suburbs. He could feel the weight of his decision with an unwipeable smile on his face as he pushed the car to its limits. 

“You're grinning like a kid on Christmas,” she said, laughing over the wind whipping through the windows.

“Because this is Christmas,” Robert replied, gunning the engine. “Only better. Santa never brought me 650 horsepower.”

The roads were open tonight, empty except for the occasional flicker of tree shadows. Robert felt the chill air with windows down, only fueling his joy and excitement. He sped down the winding backroads, flooring it at every straightaway he could. The 6.2 Liter V8 roared, reverberating through his chest after pushing his foot down so hard that the back two tires squealed on the pavement. Robert felt the power at his hands, letting out the happiest, “Woohooooo”. 

“Okay, easy there, Ricky Bobby,” she said, though she smiled through her words.

“Can’t help it,” Robert said. “She’s meant to be driven.”

This joy was short-lived, though, as he saw the flash of police lights in his rearview mirror. 

“Damnit,” he muttered. “F***, f***, f***.” 

Amanda turned to him, the laughter draining from her face. “Robert, don’t.”

He looked down at the dash to see he was going 108 miles an hour, still not slowing down yet. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched the cop gain some distance on him, his foot hovering over both brake and gas pedals. The Corvette’s engine hummed, almost as if it too felt the surge of defiance. 

Robert thought quickly, but not smartly, as slammed his foot down, the car jolting forward. 

Amanda grabbed his arm. “We can just pull over. Explain—”

“No,” he snapped, then softened. “No, Amanda. I can’t. I’ve got points already. I can't afford this. I’m sorry.”

Before she could respond, Robert slammed his foot down again. The car lunged forward.

The officer was persistent, matching his speed as the chase twisted deeper into the winding backroads. The road was narrow, a patchwork of gravel and dirt, clinging to the edge of a forest. The vegetation seemed to lean closer, their long limbs threatening to grab the car, to pull it into the woods. Robert’s adrenaline numbed out the danger. 

Amanda clutched the dash. “Robert, this is insane!”

“I got it!” he yelled. “Trust me!”

He found a straightaway, knowing the patrol car wasn’t able to keep up with Corvette, he had no intention to lift his foot up from the pedal. The speedometer counted up with pace, 120, 130, 140, 150.

The flicker of the police lights began to dim as Robert zipped around a curve, the cop, no match for Robert’s new Z06. Robert’s shoulders relaxed as he saw no trace of the cop following him. Eyes glued to the rearview mirror confirming he had lost him, Robert let out a “Woooo”. 

In an instant before he could even react, the road took a sharp corner. Robert jolted the wheel to the left as the tires screamed, sending an echo through the trees. The car fishtailed, skidding onto the gravel and dirt on the road’s shoulder, the engine howling in protest. 

Robert hit the brakes. The car slammed into a thick oak with a deafening crash. The air sucked from his lungs as his world shattered.

Silence and stillness.

The impact was a blur.

Robert’s head slammed against the steering wheel, the seatbelt pulling tight, forcing him into the seat. His vision swam everywhere as pain shot throughout his whole body; for a moment, he couldn’t tell if he was even alive, or if it had all been some wild, reckless dream.

Everything hurt. His head ached. His chest burned. The ringing in his ears was louder than the engine ever had been. He blinked, trying to gather his thoughts, his bearings. Amanda.

“Amanda!” he croaked.

She stirred beside him, dazed, blood on her forehead.

“I... I think I’m okay,” she whispered.

Relief washed through him. He reached for her hand, gripping it tight.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tears welling in his eyes.

The familiar hum of the engine was now gone, but an obnoxious ringing in his ears had taken its place. He tried to breathe but it only came to him in desperate gasps, and when he tired to move, his body wouldn’t cooperate. The Corvette's crumbled side was mashed up against the oak tree.

His first instinct was to get out and run, but where to? Even then, his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. Then his mind caught up to him: he realized he was going to be in huge trouble. This wasn’t any fender bender in a parking lot. Robert had completely totaled his brand-new Corvette and more. His dream car, that he worked so hard for, was now a mangled mess.

“I didn’t mean for this—” he began.

She nodded, cutting him off. “I know. But you need to get out. Now.”

And he had been speeding, running from the cops. His wreckless joy ride landing him in the middle of nowhere, alone.

The silence that followed to wreck felt endless. The only sounds that remained were his faint breathing and the hiss of air escaping the broken engine. He blinked hard as if it would cure his blurry vision of his Corvette against the tree. He then gathered the strength to try and open his door, but it didn’t budge. His heart raced and the panic instantly set in.

Robert’s hands trembled as he fumbled with the seatbelt. He grunted before managing to unbuckle himself. He sat there looking straight ahead blankly, trying to wipe the shock away. His pulse shook throughout his whole body.

He glanced at the rearview mirror, hoping against hope that maybe the police hadn't seen the crash, but it was no use. There were no flashing lights, no sirens, just the lonely quiet of the woods. His thoughts turned to the officer who had been chasing him. Robert had to assume the cop had seen the crash and probably heard it.

With what little strength he had left, Robert pushed the door again. This time, it gave. He staggered out of the car, his legs weak and unsteady. Amanda followed, limping as he helped her. He could smell the burn of leaking fluids, and the warmth of the engine still pulsed against the cold night air. He stumbled away from the car, his feet crunching against gravel and fallen leaves. 

The thumping of his heart echoed in his chest as he heard something in the distance—a faint siren. His breath caught in his throat. Robert’s panic surged. “They’re coming.”

Amanda stared at him, eyes wide. “We need help, Robert. We shouldn’t run.”

But he couldn’t think clearly. The adrenaline screamed louder than reason.

“I can’t get arrested,” he said. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Before she could stop him, he turned and ran into the woods, the trees swallowing him whole.

Robert didn’t give himself a second to think about it. His legs, despite their shaking, carried him off the road into the woods. He darted between trees, keeping his eyes ahead, pushing the pain from his body. He didn't even know where he was going, but he couldn't stop himself. Every footstep in the soft ground sounded like it might give him away.

As he weaved through the trees, the reality of the situation began to settle in. The police were on their way. His crash had not only destroyed his car but had set in motion something far worse. The consequences of fleeing from a cop, wrecking a brand-new car, and running into the woods were going to haunt him for a long time.

Every snap of a twig under his foot, every rustle of leaves in the wind, sounded like it could be someone closing in on him.

“STOP” a voice yelled from behind him. 

Robert turned slowly and put his hands in the air. He couldn’t see as a bright, white flashlight beamed at his face. Amanda’s face lingered in his mind, her eyes filled with fear and betrayal. No amount of speed could outrun the truth now.