“It’s not my fault!â€? I yell at her, not believing that she would even think it was me.

“It’s never your fault! Whatever you do, it’s always someone else! Can’t you pull yourself together for once and take responsibilty for your actions?â€? She glares at me in a way that if looks could kill, I’d be dead 3 times over by now.

“What the hell are you talking about?â€? I survey the damage and begin to smile, “I don’t even know how to drive a shift, how do you expect me to have driven it out of your driveway, down the street, and into the pool?â€?

“Well, um, I don’t know, you could have pushed it or something…â€? The comment floats in the air between us, until she too starts laughing after realzing how ridiculous the statement was. Me, with my not quite done developing teenage body and wannabe muscles, could never have pushed that pile of junk more than two feet, if at all. “Ok Dave, maybe it wasn’t you…this time. But seriously, we might want to go explain to the Burkhart’s why they have a car in their pool.â€?