He could drive well, when he kept the speed reasonable, I had to admit. 当他把速度保持在合理水平时，他确实可以开得很好，我不得不承认这一点。

Like so many things, it seemed to be effortless to him. 就像很多事情一样，这似乎对他来说毫不费力。

He barely looked at the road, yet the tires never deviated so much as a centimeter from the center of the lane. 他很少看路面，轮胎却从未偏离过小路的正中间，一公分也没有偏离过。

He drove one-handed, holding my hand on the seat. 他单手开着车，在座位上牵着我的手。

Sometimes he gazed into the setting sun, sometimes he glanced at me— 有时候他会抬头看向正在落下的太阳，有时他会看着我——

my face, my hair blowing out the open window, our hands twined together. 我的脸，我飘拂在敞开的车窗外的头发，我们交叠的手。

He had turned the radio to an oldies station, and he sang along with a song I'd never heard. 他打开了收音机，转到一个老歌电台，然后跟着一首我从未听过的歌唱了起来。

He knew every line. 他知道每一个节拍。

"You like fifties music?" I asked. “你喜欢五十年代的音乐？”我问道。

"Music in the fifties was good. Much better than the sixties, or the seventies, ugh!" He shuddered. “五十年代的音乐很棒。比六十年代的，或者七十年代的还要棒，唷！”他颤抖了一下。

"The eighties were bearable." “八十年代的还能忍受。”

"Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?" I asked, tentative, not wanting to upset his buoyant humor. “你打算告诉我你多大了吗？”我试探性问道，不想打破他正在兴头上的幽默气氛。

"Does it matter much?" His smile, to my relief, remained unclouded. “这很重要吗？”让我宽慰的是，他的笑容依然明朗。

"No, but I still wonder..." I grimaced. “不，但我还是想知道……”我扮了个鬼脸。

"There's nothing like an unsolved mystery to keep you up at night." “没有什么能像一个未解之谜一样让你整夜睡不着觉。”

"I wonder if it will upset you," he reflected to himself. “我怀疑这是否会让你心烦。”他的回应更像是自言自语。

He gazed into the sun; the minutes passed. 他看着太阳，时间一分一秒地过去了。

"Try me," I finally said. “让我试试看。”我最终说道。

He sighed, and then looked into my eyes, seeming to forget the road completely for a time. 他叹息着，然后看向了我的眼睛，那一刻他似乎完全忘记了路况。

Whatever he saw there must have encouraged him. 不管他看见了什么，那一定鼓励了他。

He looked into the sun—the light of the setting orb glittered off his skin in ruby-tinged sparkles—and spoke. 他看向太阳——那个正在落下的球体发出的光芒在他的肌肤上闪耀着，折射出略带深红色的微光——然后说话了。