My second grade teacher always told me

...not to get into a car with strangers. As I darted across the three lane street avenue and hopped into the car, I wondered how and why I got myself into this. On the corner of second Ave and 11th street, I slammed the door of the white Chevy blazer with Texas plates. Matt, the director had a caring, enthusiastic voice. He turned around to see me, face pressed against the window, being swallowed by an assortment of bags, hats, and sweaters. I looked over to Matt who was driving and looking back at me. His face was hidden behind piercing and facial hair. Matt’s gaunt facial features were decorated with course reddish hair, a silver lip ring, and a facial stud piercing.
Seated next to him was a friend of his. Her blond dreads were tucked up inside a wool hat and she molded herself into the shadows of the front seat. The car pulls over and the Lower East Side traffic blew by us. The SUV slightly shakes as cars rumble past on the cobble stone street. "Have you been smoking Libby." Matt says to the pink and blue haired girl. She hops into the empty seat next to me. "Libby’s a virgin."