Cigarette smoke slowly escapes her already alcohol tainted breath. Panic, panic, is all Patrick can read from his life-long friend's body language. Consoling her is the best he can do, though he debates whether this discussion is even worth having.
"Nick, my best friend Nick!", Patrick continues to think as if his mind were a broken record, repeating, repeating. Ashamed to be such a nosy creep, it would be a mistake the magnitude of an earthquake to let her know just what he heard through the one and a half-inch thick wooden barrier.
Sarah has nothing to say. Working from one breath to the next, the best she can do is keep her eyes on the road. "Could you be any more distracting Nick? I can't even keep steady on the road now," she wants to yell.
One last, meaningful tear drips from her glossy eyes,... the car's white lights found their way off into the ditch; just like a missile guided by the precision of a laser. Tumbling down the road, their heads race into the airbags in a fraction of a second; She shrieks oh so loud. The three thousand pound metal block slowly finally loses its momentum, and soon is at a halt.
The night's events have suddenly lost all of their significance. Bruised and battered, their bodies have remained in tact. Patrick grasps on to Sarah's hand, and mutters the words, " I love You", in a much more meaningful way than he ever intended. As frightening of a lesson as it was, the reality that things could be so much worse sets in. Patrick and his beloved friend have found a greater significance in their very lives.
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