"Can we turn the radio off?" he asked, fidgeting in his seat.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reach for the silver dial on the dashboard. She took her hand off the wheel and lightly slapping his wrist.
"What was that for?" he whined.
"Did I say you could you could turn it off? You asked, but I never agreed." she said as she changed from second to third gear.
"Yeah, but I hate this song. It's really dumb."
She turned the radio up a little louder and pushed down on the accelerator. "It's not that bad. You just have to get into it."
He sunk low in the uncomfortable seat and crossed his arms. "No."
The car swerved around a corner at high speed. Turning the steering wheel roughly, she hummed along to the pop song. "My rodeo Romeo, a cowboy god from head to toe."
"Stop it."
"Gotta make you mine, gotta get in line."
"Stop it."
"Five, six, seven eight!"
"Stop it!"
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