“Amber… Amber!”

A hand grabbed Amber’s arm and tugged her violently backward. She hit the sidewalk hard, one of her earbuds flying out and dangling uselessly, her phone clattering onto the ground beside her, pulling the headphone cord taught. Her long, auburn curls flew into her face, blinding her sparkly green eyes from seeing for a second. Just seconds after, the grey pickup truck sailed by on the very spot she had just been standing, going too fast to stop or slow down. The driver, a large, burly man with a frizzy beard, honked and gestured angrily at her. Typical. Amber turned her head and saw her best friend Cheyenne, her black coils wild, and her dark brown eyes wide with shock as she stared down at Amber. “You almost got hit!” Cheyenne, exclaimed, her voice cracked and high with worry.

“Yeah….I…I know.” Replied Amber in a slightly shaky, shellshocked tone. “Thanks. Enn.”

“Of course,” Answered Cheyenne. “Just be careful.”

“Good idea.”

And the girls, together, walked home safely.