One of my clearest memories of being 16 is driving home from a youth summer camp training meeting at about 11:00 at night, me and some friends in my mom’s dark blue Oldsmobile, followed by some other friends in [James Court’s] blue Duster. (That’s not his real name, I’m changing it to protect him.) James was a good pal, and we still keep in touch. He’s big and burly and nice, but unpredictable. I was being a big shot, or at least a big pain, and I was driving faster than him and stopping him from passing me on the two-lane street. I pulled up to a red light in the left-hand turn lane, and waited even after the light turned green. I thought, hey, I’ll pull a trick, staying here until the light is yellow, then I’ll go and he’ll be stuck. But James caught on quickly, and after honking and yelling a few times, he suddenly pulled out into the oncoming traffic lanes, roared by me, and screeched left. He could easily have been killed. And I was left behind. I learned a major lesson that day, consisting of the following parts. 1) Other people are far more creative than you think. 2) Other people will do crazy things if you block them from doing the normal thing. 3) Teenagers with cars are as dangerous as you think they are, and then some. 4) I’m not really very good at being a reckless bad ass. 5) For some reason, all the girls were in his car.