Prompt: Class assignment, first person.

Summer had always seemed like such a strange time. The summer before my two best friends, Sophie and Amy and I all went our separate ways for college, we decided to head to California for one last adventure. Each of us had been saving our money, scrimping on groceries and cutting back on everything but the essentials. For a week, we would be able to enjoy the sandy beaches and glittering oceans. I was hoping to run into a celebrity, maybe even have one of those handsome Hollywood hunks fall in love with me. Something out of a movie that shows up in theaters every summer.

    Sophie was sitting shotgun, shoes off and her bare feet hanging out the window. The strong breeze blowing through the window whipped strands of her ginger-colored hair across her face. In the backseat, Amy had her headphones in and was half-asleep. The radio was playing a random tuned from the mixtape that Sophie had made. I can't remember what the song was, only that it was some vaguely familiar sounding pop song about summer.

    It was hot. The heat filled the rusty van whenever we had to slow down in traffic. There was no air conditioning. My brother had busted it when he ran into a tree. The van was too old to waste the money on fixing the air and everyone was waiting for it to die. All I needed from the van was for it to get me to California coming back was optional.

    There was a heavy metal clunk, heard over the roaring wind and the pop song about summer. Thick acrid black smoke billowed out from under the hood as the van spluttered and coughed. I swore, pulling the van over to the side of the road and yanking the keys out of the ignition.

    "What's happening?" Amy yawned. She had draped herself over Sophie and mine's armrest. Her close cut blonde hair was sticking up and she kept yawning. One headphone was still jammed in her ear. The other emitting a contorted guitar solo.

    "This piece of crap van broke down," I replied. "Sophie, can you see if there are any tools in the glove box?" Sophie pulled her feet back into the interior of the van and dug around in the glove box. I had no idea what was in there. Sophie pulled out an enormous stack of napkins from various fast food places as well as three condoms all past their expiration date and a takeout menu from a Chinese place.

    "There's nothing in here," Sophie said, shutting the glove box with more force than necessary.

    "Do either of you guys know anything about engines?" I asked. Amy shrugged and Sophie shook her head. I whipped my forehead with the edge of my shirt. The temperature inside the van had been rising steadily ever since I stopped. Both Amy and Sophie's faces were shining with sweat. Sophie kept trying to hold her long hair off her neck. I could feel my shirt sticking to the back of my seat.

    Amy laid back down in the backseat, fanning herself with her hands. "Should we call a tow?"

    "That's going to take out of our California time," I complained. "I'm sure one of us can fix it."

    Sophie had already dug her phone out of her bag and was on Google, looking for a towing company's number. "It won't take that long for them to look at it and I'd rather not get stranded in the middle of the desert."

    "Maybe they can fix the air," Amy added.

    We sat in the heat for nearly two hours while we waited for the tow truck company to show up. I tried to calculate the cost in my head. Would we have to cut our trip short because of this? I figured if the cost to fix the van was really pricey, we could always sleep in it.

    The mechanic who looked at the van was balding. He had a wide stomach that waddled when he walked and stretched the buttons of his blue shirt. The nametag on his shirt said he was Joe. Joe the mechanic took one look at the engine and told us it was a waste to fix it.

    "What?" I demanded. That was impossible. I had wanted that van to die for months so I could get a new car and it had to die the one time I needed it. Typical.

    Joe adjusted his belt and shrugged. "This engine is shit, pardon my French ladies." Joe then launched into a long-winded explanation about what exactly was wrong with the engine.

    I tried to figure out how we could still get to California. A taxi would be too expensive and there was no way Sophie's parents would even consider lending her their car. Amy couldn't drive so her parent's car was out. We'd be lucky if we could get somebody to come pick us up.

    "Is there any way to fix it?" I asked. "We need to get to California."

    "Lady," Joe replied. "This car ain't going anywhere but a junk yard."

Nova, Sophie, and Amy are characters that I use a lot. So you'll see them crop up a few times throughout these, especially the class assignments.