When Izzy swung open the door she was greeted by her best friend Danielle, wearing a bright blue top that clung to every curve of her torso and a pair of shorts the exposed every inch of her freshly waxed legs. Izzy was quick to embrace the girl.
“You look incredible,” said Danielle while admiring those perfect jeans and reconsidering her own wardrobe.
“Not as incredible as you, no one’s going to be able to ignore this,” Izzy replied, pointing at the sliver of exposed midriff her friend had.
Pleasantries over they quickly turned to Danielle’s sleek blue car and began to spout all the gossip they’d heard. “Ruby Lang was wearing that top again, you know what that means.”
“You don’t mean Eugene Werthers is single again? Damn I chose the wrong month to be a brunette again,” Danielle groaned while clutching at her hair in disdain.
“Danielle, you have to set your eyes higher than a middle school crush,” Izzy ordered while swinging herself into the passenger seat. “He hasn’t been a catch since grade nine.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” Danielle sighed. She grazed her hands over her breasts wistfully. “If these girls had come in sooner I would have had a chance.”
“They’re here now, and way more than Eugene can handle,” Izzy smirked as she did up her seatbelt. Danielle pulled out of the driveway and within five minutes they were free to talk again on the freeway.
“You can’t seriously be going after Kevin again,” Danielle groaned. “You know he has a type.”
“I’m going to make this ass his type tonight in these jeans,” Izzy retorted. The two of them got quiet, the argument stifling the air for a moment before regret crept in. Danielle looked at her sheepishly before sighing.
“So, have you heard the rumours of that weird radio station?” Danielle asked while reaching over and disabling her phone. Music began to blare through the speakers, a horrid top ten beat that clashed against Izzy’s ears.
“Danielle, you know that no one actually listens to the radio these days,” Izzy replied. Even her mom plugged in her phone and listened to a carefully curated playlist just so she didn’t have to hear ads.
“Kate Mcginnin swears she heard it. She says weird things happen when you listen to it. Everyone at the party’s probably going to be searching for it,” Danielle coaxed.
Izzy snapped her fingers joyfully. “And if we find it first…” She quickly began to fiddle with the knob, sifting between stations and giving them trace earfuls of local ads, news broadcasts, and snippets of songs. She knew it was all a hoax but anything to bury that slight argument was worth the time. Bits of song here and there, lots of music trivia, and horrible screeching static filled the car.
“Jameson Tunnel’s coming,” Danielle warned and Izzy picked up the pace. She sifted through channel after channel to no avail. Country stations, jazz quartets, even old opera. Nothing was eerie or bizarre and with a sudden cut to static they passed into the tunnel and Izzy slumped back in her seat defeated. Static buzzed and she strained her mind for something else to gossip about. She didn’t need to though.
With a cut a little jingle of music played and a voice that sounded like it smoked fifteen packs of cigarettes a day began to speak. “Welcome to Carver FM. Our next track goes out to two girls driving through the Jameson Tunnel.” And like that music began to play.