The engine starts and an extremely familiar song starts playing from a disc in the car radio.
I look at my sister in the driver's seat.
She looks at me.
"...Is this Dear John again?" I ask her gently.
She has been listening to Dear John on repeat for the past two weeks straight. I didn't think it had made it to her car.
She stares at her lap, hands gripping the steering wheel. Frowns. Sighs. Looks at the radio. Slowly, she turns her head, looks me dead in the eye, and says,
"Don't hate the playlist, hate the player."
and turns it up to full blast as she screeches out of the driveway.
I look at my sister in the driver's seat.
She looks at me.
"...Is this Dear John again?" I ask her gently.
She has been listening to Dear John on repeat for the past two weeks straight. I didn't think it had made it to her car.
She stares at her lap, hands gripping the steering wheel. Frowns. Sighs. Looks at the radio. Slowly, she turns her head, looks me dead in the eye, and says,
"Don't hate the playlist, hate the player."
and turns it up to full blast as she screeches out of the driveway.
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