In an attempt to keep an apparent appearance of balance, he held his arms wide apart and kept an adequate distance between his mismatched neon colored sneakers in order to remain relatively steady. With slightly knocking knees, each step was cautiously made. If he wasn't to walk in a completely straight line, he was done for. Perhaps even his recently acquired driver's license would be revoked. Or maybe he'd even end up in juvenile jail or something. Being sixteen and thoroughly intoxicated while driving against the flow of traffic on an interstate highway was pretty much unacceptable for this young man. Especially since the cop who had spotted the boy was more than familiar. His heart pumped as if to penetrate his chest, he had pretty much maintained a straight line while walking so far. 

"Just one more step," he mumbled beneath his liquored scented breath. He closed his eyes and begged for mercy from the great God above, he didn't need a ticket. Especially not now. He lifted his foot and instantly stumbled and fell to the hard concrete below, scraping his new pair of slightly baggy jeans. The young man's blood ran completely cold.

"Son," the police officer said with a slight southern drawl, "Have you been drinking tonight?" The boy was just about to attempt to reply with an obvious lie, hopefully without a single slur, when a loud sound of vehicle wreckage could be heard from a distance.

"Looks like I better go, son.” He grumbled, "But if I catch you swerving even just a tiny bit down this road again..."

"You won't, sir." He boy replied.

"I better."

And that was the end of the conversation. He boy hesitantly climbed back into the dented up pickup truck and sped off into the night beneath the full milky moon. He brushed aside his naturally auburn bangs that had been poorly dyed black and gazed into the rearview mirror as the sound of the sirens and flashing lights became more and more intangible as the red old pickup rapidly accelerated down the highway. No way in the good Lord's name was he going to receive a ticket tonight, he was well out of cash. 

He lit up a cigarette and puffed. After an unexpected conversation like that, he was in desperate need to relive some stress. His dark green eyes remained on the road ahead and didn't dare to remove a hand from the wheel. Anymore slipups, no matter how trivial, and he was more than likely asking for another cop to pull him over.  

“T-that was c-close, Isaiah-h,” Slurred a blonde in the passenger’s seat as she practically slid into him due to a sudden sharp turn of the vehicle. She too was rather drunk and could hardly see straight, even more so than her boyfriend. 

“Yeah, Nimble,” he sighed, “I know.”

Of course, that wasn’t the girl’s name, but to her wide circle of friends and acquaintances she had achieved the nickname from her striking slight resemblance to somewhat popular singer and song writer Taylor Swift. The name Nimble arrived from the star’s last name, as it is a synonym for swift. Seldom did anyone ever call her by her actual name, much less even know what it was. Suddenly the car swerved into the cement wall of the highway. Sparks ignited from the constant friction between the barrier and the truck’s rusted metal doors. 

“Fireworks!” Nimble exclaimed at the sight of the new source of light, “Do it again!”

It wasn’t long before the familiar view of red and blue lights flashed from an approaching vehicle from behind. It was New Year’s Day, of course cops were out and about searching for the drunkest of drivers.

“Crap,” Isaiah moaned, “I can’t get a ticket, not now!”

It was then that a look of mischief popped into the corner of Nimble’s eye. She grinned suspiciously and extended her knee and stomped on Isaiah’s gas pedal. 

“We ain’t getting no ticket tonight, baby!” She yelled with the utmost excitement as the car’s velocity exceeded well over 75 miles per hour.

“Nimble!” Her boyfriend screamed at the top of his lungs, “What on are you doing?!”

The girl laughed in response and applied even more force upon the poor gas pedal and pulled the car out of the second gear causing the car to zoom faster than any other on the road and well past the speed limit.

“Good God!” The young man exclaimed, “Get your foot off of the accelerator!”

     He then attempted to put an end to the absolutely terrifying joyride and slammed down on the brake. Instantly, the cop that had previously had been in pursuit of the young unsuspecting couple rammed right into the back of the pickup.  Isaiah’s heart pounded, this was his father’s car.

     The sudden impact had nearly snapped the girl’s neck, but she survived but was instantly knocked unconscious after the initial force of the police car.  Isaiah’s vision was well beyond impaired with alcohol but now, nearly shot with the almost snapping of his neck. He attempted to remove himself from the vehicle, but a something had stopped the door from moving. He looked out the window and a rather cross police officer stood in the path of the car’s door. His dark black sunglasses showed nothing but the reflection of the terrified expression upon the boy’s face. Though Isaiah did wonder, why was he wearing a pair of shades at night?

  “You alright, Son?” The officer asked with a slight southern drawl. 

The boy, still rather astonished, slowly nodded in response.

    “Good, then I suppose you’re well enough for me to place you under arrest.”

    “I can explain…” He mumbled.

    “No need to, no need to explain yourself to a man of the law.”

I'd like you guys' opinion on this...

Wheeee, so excited to see this group being used. Had you originally only used 3rd person without a name? There are two places were you have 'He boy replied' and 'He boy hesitantly climbed....'. There's also a place were you might have missed a word? "What on are you doing?!".

Also - if someone was intoxicated and sixteen and potentially from the South while driving their father's car drunk, I'm not entirely sold on them saying 'good God' or 'accelerator'. Unless, that's a distinct mark of his character?

Thanks for the input! <3