I rode in a fast car

There's nothing like the feeling of being so close to breaking the law, you can taste it.
 
...  
 
At a birthday party, I recently met up with some mates of my childhood friend, and two of them like to customize their own cars.  
 
Both vehicles were decked out in sterling silver coats, slick spoilers, fresh LED linings, foreign license plates, and manual transmissions. I couldn't help but think that they really looked more like Hot Wheels toys than any of the other cars I've driven prior.  
 
Just before we we left the party in the evening, one of the drivers, with his hoodie up and his arm slung around his adjacent chair told the group, "Man gas is so expensive nowadays, but oh well, I can only go premium man".  And his friend, in a sleepier voice went, "Yeah, but that's where the good stuff is up man."  
 
I had never met anyone my age who used premium gas exclusively--let alone can afford it.  
 
When we were finished talking, I went in the first car I saw, not really thinking much about it. The guy with the hoodie, who would be my driver, courteously let me sit in the front. While slipping in, I peered at the no-fail, black on black interior, marked with a touchscreen the size of an XXL smartphone, and thought, "Hey well, this looks pretty cool."  
 
I knew absolutely nothing of what was about to happen.  
 
When we hit the first speed limit sign, my new driver-friend didn't really say much, he just smiled a little as I rolled down my window casually. I slowly let my fingers weave through the breeze as we coasted around the river bend. He slipped another glance my way, and I smiled, "Wow, driving in this car is really nice, isn't it?"  
 
"It is." He said, then he snapped his transmission into a higher gear.  
 
My cerebellum was plastered to the headrest. I flicked my eyes towards the speedometer, and he inched up at least 30 km/h over the posted speed on one of the tightest roads in my city. He was holding back for respect of my first time in his car, but even then, the feelings inside me were intoxicating. For the rest of the ride, I could only hear my heartbeat accelerating faster than a rocket shooting into the stratosphere.  
 
It was all fucking insane, but I loved every second of it.  
 
While I was just trying to comprehend whatever the hell was happening, he was weaving in and out the gaps of moving cars like clockwork. It didn't even seem like he was driving me to a destination anymore; he was controlling a mechanical masterpiece of gears, levers and switches, of which he was its only pilot. All that stood still was doomed for impermanence, as we speed skated down the winding roads.  
 
"Holy shit, I'm gonna fucking die today." I thought, as we shot through yet another yellow light.  
 
But the truth was, I had never been more alive before. That night, I was reborn.