It is the fall of 1998, and you and Candace (a girl in your grade 11 class whom you've mustered up the courage to ask on a date) are driving home from seeing Rush Hour in your mom's 1994 Toyota Tercel. Trying to avoid awkward small-talk (when all you can think about is a goodnight kiss), you turn the radio to your favourite FM station. The tail-end of Aerosmith's "I don't wanna miss a thing" fades out into the night air.
"Did you see Armageddon this summer?" She asks.
"No." You say after a pause not wanting to admit you saw that shitty fucking movie.
"Oh. I really liked it. I've got a thing for Ben Affleck."
At this point you realize the night is completely ruined. She has a thing for pseudo-intellectual hacks with a Boston accent. She probably has the poster for Good Will Hunting (1997) hanging up in her room. You're screwed. Why did you take her to Rush Hour? You should have known she was too good for jokes about "a black man's radio".
Your thoughts are all a blur as you reach her street. In fact, you miss it all together and have to go back around the block. Flustered, you turn up the radio only to come across the most beautiful thing your ears have ever heard. Suddenly, you look over at Candace gazing back on you. Not quite deer in headlights, but not quite love at first sight. But you know it is special. You pull into her driveway next to a razor scooter and a few Mighty Ducks branded mini sticks (her little brother's, of course) and place the car in park. Eyes lock, and she puts her hand on the arm of your corduroy over-shirt and tells you she had an amazing night.
"Would you like to go out together next weekend? There's a video dance going on at the Community centre."
"I'd love that." She says
After a long silence, with only the angelic hymns of a yet to be named song as your encouragement, you lean over the gear shift and place a kiss on Candace's lips. She doesn't pull away- a miracle.All you can taste is this moment.