Crazy For Girls

We all have a few scars that force us to remember something we do not wish to remember, although, sometimes they give us happier memories. The one I choose to talk about, is my right hand scar. It was only about a year ago, I'm new to this town, and all the local girls just heard about me. They all loved me, and I loved it. Well, one night I was on the hood of their truck while they sat in the truck, driving down backroads. It was stupid, looking back at it, but we kept speeding until I could hardly grip to the hood. I wusses out and jumped, planning to land in the grass. The wind knocked me sideways though, dragging me across the concrete road. I hear the brakes skid and go to a stop, but by the time they've stopped I'm already running around. It hurt like a bitch, my whole right arm, face, and leg was bloody to hell, but I tried to run it off, plus I didn't want to look like a wuss. I ran into the truck and they all looked at me, then said, "We were going 70. How did you even survive that?!" It was a moment of shock for a moment, then we all yelled in cheer.

Now every time I look at my hand, I know just how crazy I am for girls