Stolen Car

by Patrick Jones

  After about ten minutes, I go outside. Reid’s leaning on the hood of Wayne’s car, smoking a Newport, wearing a long blue T-shirt, and blocking out the glare of the sun with a pair of new sunglasses that look like they have diamonds in the tips. “You got the keys?”

  I nod, and he puts out his hands.

  “Throw ’em,” he commands. I send Mom’s keys flying across the parking lot. Reid catches them, laughs, and walks toward me. He shouts something to Wayne, who laughs and then peels out of the lot, adding to its huge collection of tire marks.

  “Which one?”

  I point at the blue-and-rust-colored Malibu with shame, thinking about Reid’s cold-as-hell Viper and Wayne’s cool Impala. I can tell Reid’s trying not to laugh as he unlocks the doors and climbs in the passenger’s seat. I take the unfamiliar spot behind the wheel.

  “First rule of driving,” Reid says, showing me a CD, “is having the right music.”

  He puts the key in the ignition, and then pushes the CD into the player. Even through Mom’s crappy crackling speakers, AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” sounds fine.

  Reid shouts his driving instructions over the music. I manage not to hit anything in the parking lot, not to kill us pulling onto Van Slyke Road, and not to smash into the car in front of us at the stop light on Bristol Road. All the time, my teeth are clenched with fear, while my heart’s beating faster at the touch of Reid’s hand on my arm, helping me steer safely. He makes me drive around the block a few times, then dares me to take it out on the expressway.

  “The key to merging is very simple,” he says with great seriousness as we start down the entrance ramp from Bristol onto I-75 north.

  “What’s that?” I ask. I need the confidence of his eyes, but his sunglasses and my fear of taking my eyes off the road present a double obstacle.

  “Drive like hell!” he shouts, then pushes his hand down hard on my leg, causing the engine to race and our speed to scream up to almost seventy in just a few seconds. My heart plummets into my stomach; butterflies are crashing into each other and I try not to crash into the cars in front of me. “Drive like hell, Danielle, drive like hell!”

  He clicks the CD twice and “Highway to Hell” repeats. My hands are still shaking, but having Reid’s arm around my shoulder helps distract me from the pit of fear in my gut. We drive just a few miles north on I-75, then I exit back onto safer city streets. I get ready to turn onto Bristol, but Reid tells me to head to his house. He keeps telling me what a great job I’m doing and how he can’t wait to teach me to drive the Viper. I somehow get to his house without killing either of us.

  We’re sitting in his driveway. His mom’s truck is nowhere in sight. Reid’s arm is off my shoulder. Now he’s leaning against me, his hand almost in my lap.

  “I need to bring the car back,” I say. “My mom’s shift is over soon.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” he says, then pulls me tight. Words stick in my throat as his hand moves up from my lap until his fingers pass over my right breast. I should roll down the car windows because they’re starting to steam up.

  “We didn’t really get started the other night,” he whispers as the long fingers of his right hand run down my shirt, every now and then lightly brushing against my breasts. “Let’s go inside.”

  “My mom would kill me,” I say, embarrassed even as the words leave my mouth.

  “I wonder if being dead is better than being tortured,” he says as he takes my hand and rubs them over the small scars on his arm. “I’ve lived through so much shit in my life.”

  “Reid, I’m so sorry.”

  “I need somebody who understands me like you do,” Reid says, pulling up his sleeve. He points at his scars. “I need somebody to help me heal all this shit.”

  “Reid, it’s just—,” I start, but his kiss stops me from speaking.

  “I need you,” Reid says, almost pleading as he opens up the passenger door. He walks slowly, head down, toward his front door, then turns, looks at me, and walks inside. I sit in the car for a moment, rearranging my clothes and my thoughts. The steam might evaporate, but the heat doesn’t. The front door to his house remains open, and seconds later, the driver’s door of my mom’s Malibu opens too, as I start the long walk toward Reid’s house. I’ve stolen Mom’s car, Reid’s stolen my heart, and I’m ready for him to take whatever else he needs.

  JULY

  8

  SATURDAY, JULY 12

  “Where have you been hiding?” Evan asks. It’s a question he, Ashley, and my mother have all been asking for the last two weeks. I’ve resurfaced to see Evan at the mall before I head downtown to the library to meet up with Ashley for book club.

  “I’ve just been hanging out,” I say slowly. Where I’ve really been—with Reid, whenever he’s not too busy—is not something Evan wants to know. He wouldn’t like it, but mostly he wouldn’t understand it, in part because I can’t really explain it. It’s not about anything Reid says, does, or gives me. It’s more about how I feel when I’m with him.

  “Hanging out like an apple waiting to be picked.” Evan sounds pretty self-righteous for a guy sweating under an ugly red Halo Burger hat. His awkwardness makes me sigh.

  “Whatever,” I say. I knew meeting up with Evan was a mistake, but I’m trying to maintain our friendship, and I also want Mom to keep thinking that he’s my boyfriend. “How about you?” I ask in the most friendly manner I can summon.

  “You’ve been at Reid’s, I know it,” he says with an icy tone.

  “No,” I answer, which isn’t a total lie. Reid and I spend some time at his house, but mostly we’ve driving around, either in the Viper or in Mom’s “borrowed” Malibu. She’s yet to discover that we’re taking her wheels while she works.

  “He’s no good. You know that, right?” Evan’s voice cracks.

  “Just because he and Vic don’t like each other, that—”

  “I don’t even like my brother, so this has nothing to do with him,” Evan cuts me off.

  “Jealous,” I whisper under my breath.

  “I don’t think so,” Evan says, trying to sound confident.

  “Really?” I arch the eyebrow that—if everything goes as planned—I’ll be getting pierced to night by Becca, after which the four of us will stay the whole night at Reid’s. The party ban is lifted at his house, so everybody’s coming over. Everybody but Evan, Ashley, and Vic.

  Evan scratches his whisker-free chin and says, “Maybe I am jealous. Paint me green like it’s St. Patrick’s Day and I’ll be your leprechaun of love.”

  I try hard not to laugh, but I’m way too tired.

  “You think I’m real funny,” Evan says. “At school, I’m funny enough to laugh with, but now you’re laughing at me. I’m the one who should be laughing at you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You should talk to Vic about Reid, he’s got lots of stories to tell. Most of them are about girls Reid fucked, then fucked over.”

  “You’re just saying that,” I shoot back, angry at myself for reaching out to him. I want us to stay friends, but I guess if I can’t be his girlfriend, then I can only be his enemy.

  “Ask Vic about how Reid gets his money,” Evan continues. “Or ask him yourself.”

  “Maybe I could ask Vic why Reid doesn’t want him hanging out there anymore,” I snap back. “Maybe I could ask Vic why he’s such a loser. Just like his brother.”

  “Fine, Danielle,” Evan says, then stands up. “I’ve got to go work at a real job.”

  “Fine yourself,” I say, pushing the tray of half-eaten food across the table at him.

  “You should take that advice,” Evan says as he picks up the tray. “You should find yourself, because I think you’re lost.”

  “You are so annoying.” I start to walk away, but he grabs my hand.

  “You’re right, I’m annoying, but you know what else I am?” he asks. He lets my hand drop as I pretend not to hear him say, “I’m somebody who cares and doesn’t wa
nt you hurt.”

  • • •

  I’m sitting on the bus enjoying the new Lil Wayne on a sweet iPod Nano that Reid gave me. I’m trying to let the music distract me, but it’s not working. I’m not sure why, but Evan’s got me all upset, mostly because of the things I wish I’d said to him. He’s wrong: I have found myself, found myself in Reid’s eyes. Before this summer, when I looked in a mirror I saw this lumpy, awkward outsider. But when Reid sees me, he sees someone different. He sees a hot girl who he wants to be with. When I’m with him, I don’t feel like Danielle the Dork, I feel like Danielle the Desirable.

  In some ways, though, I’m more frustrated than ever because there’s nobody I can tell. I almost want to grab one of these random people on the bus and make them listen to me. I can’t tell Mom, Evan, or even Ashley about Reid. They all disapprove for one reason or another, mostly because they’re jealous. Friends and family always say they want you to be happy, but I’m wondering now if that’s just another lie. They only want me to be happy, if it’s on their terms.

  I meet Ashley in front of the library a few minutes before book club starts. I showed up as late as I could because after Evan’s lunch lecture, I didn’t need another one from Ashley. She’s wearing her “Give Peace a Chance” T-shirt, and I wonder if that’s some subtle message. But she surprises me by acting like everything’s fine and we start talking like old times, until I notice that something’s wrong. This isn’t me; it’s who I used to be.

  Book club is strange. Unlike last year, when I read every book cover to cover, I hadn’t finished the book, Beauty. I still said a few things I remembered about another book by Robin McKinley, but it seemed like Ashley was always trying to top or contradict the few things I did say. Whenever Mike or David spoke, though, Ashley was telling them how great their comments were.

  After book club, Ashley and I wait for her mom by the Longway Planetarium. It’s a hot day, and we have our shoes off, cooling our feet in the small reflecting pool behind the building. We talk about a lot of stuff, but I never mention Reid, even though that’s all I want to talk about.

  Knowing Ashley’s mom would be right on time, not a minute too soon or too late, I wait until almost the last moment to say something serious. “Ashley, I need a favor.”

  “CliffsNotes for the next book,” she cracks as she splashes water my way.

  “Can I spend the night at your house to night?” I ask.

  “It’s about time,” Ashley says.

  “You’re sure it’s okay?” I ask very slowly.

  “I’ll just tell the ’rents,” she says. “They like you, Danielle. My mom even asked why you weren’t hanging out as much. She was all scared we’d had a fight or something.”

  “BFFs never fight,” I say. Then I splash water back at her.

  “Wrong! Splash fight!” Ashley yells. I let out a loud laugh as we kick our legs wildly in the water, like people drowning. But when I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflecting pool, I think about how long I felt like I was underwater, until Reid pulled me out and resuscitated me.

  • • •

  It’s around ten when we hear the door to her parents’ room close. Ashley’s got a whole pile of science fiction and fantasy DVDs. She’s settling in for the evening.

  “What do you want to watch first?” she asks.

  “Ash, I need another favor,” I say.

  “What’s that?”

  “I can trust you, right?” She nods in agreement. “I’m not really going to spend the night here.”

  “What do you mean?” she asks.

  “I’m going over to Reid’s to night,” I say, biting my lip even as I speak the words.

  “But you said you were …”

  “Ashley, I’m sorry, but I need you to cover for me. It will—”

  But she cuts me off. “I’m cold.” She sits on her bed, and starts rocking herself for comfort.

  “Please, just this one time.”

  “No, it won’t be one time,” she hisses. “You’ll want me to cover for you again and again and again. Pretty soon, you won’t ask, you’ll just assume that I’ll cover for you and your lies.”

  “Ashley, please,” I beg.

  “I’m not going to do it,” she says, shaking her head violently back and forth.

  “Best friends forever,” I counter, pulling rank.

  “A friend doesn’t ask a friend to lie,” she says, then stares at me.

  “One time.” I’m almost shouting now.

  “Once the lies start, they never fucking end,” Ashley hisses again.

  I’m in silent shock. I’ve never heard Ashley drop the f-bomb anywhere anytime.

  “Until you fucking die,” she says, curling up in a ball in the corner of her bed.

  “Ashley, what’s going on?” I ask.

  “What the fuck do you care?” she shouts.

  “Where is this coming from?” I try to edge closer, but her angry eyes push me back.

  “Get out of my sight!” she says, throwing a pillow in my direction.

  “Ashley, look, I’m sorry.” I start to cry, but Ashley, as always, holds her tears inside.

  “Just leave me, like everybody else,” she says, her back—and her heart—turned away from me.

  I try to speak again, but no words come. Quickly and quietly, I gather up my overnight bag, then tiptoe like a thief down the stairs and out the door.

  I wait for Reid outside of Ashley’s for a long time since I can’t call him. I don’t get my cell back until next week. My first call will be to Ashley, and I hope she’ll still talk to me. I don’t know what she’ll do to night if Mom calls; I don’t know what she’ll say if her parents ask where I am. As I stand in the dark, I imagine something worse. Maybe I don’t know Ashley at all.

  But my dark thoughts scatter when Reid arrives. We kiss, but he seems distracted. We don’t talk much on the ride out to his house; we just listen to music booming like a tidal wave over us. “Some weird stuff going on,” he finally says. “Maybe it’d be better if you lie low until people leave.”

  “Reid, did I do something, because—” He cuts off my doubts with a kiss.

  “I gotta do a little business first,” Reid says the minute we pull into his driveway.

  I nod, then lean to kiss him again, but he backs away. We climb from the car.

  “Meet me in the alley in an hour,” he says. Then he takes off for the garage and leaves me alone.

  I shrug, smile, and head toward the alley. There are only a few cars I recognize from before, but one stands out: Vic’s junker. I watch Reid go into the garage, following far behind. The door facing the alley’s cracked open, and I lean in to listen. It’s easy to hear since the normally cool Reid is shouting. “Vic, I told you to stay away from here!”

  “It’s your fault I lost my job,” Vic shouts back. “I want compensation.”

  “You lost your job because you’re an idiot!”

  “I lost my job because I was a thief,” Vic counters.

  “Face it, Vic, you’re just a loser,” Reid says sharply.

  “I lost my job stealing shit for you. You got so fucking much, Reid, give me something!”

  “I’ll give you something,” Reid shouts. “I’ll give you ten fucking seconds to get the hell out of here. If you ever come back, I’ll kick your ass. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.”

  “You don’t scare me anymore,” Vic says, but the quavering tone trumps his words.

  I don’t wait for Vic to leave before I bolt back into the alley. I light up a Camel, but it doesn’t calm me down.

  When Reid doesn’t come out, I go inside. I hang out with other people most of the night. Reid’s busy taking calls and being the center of the storm. I think twenty times of calling Ashley, begging her to get her mom to pick me up and save me from myself. But I never make that call. After the last person leaves, around two in the morning, I join Reid in the basement for our first night together.

  “Just a crazy night,” Reid says
as he lies down on the sofa. “But you’ll make it all right.”

  “Really?” I ask before I kneel down.

  “You know why?” he asks, then kisses the top of my head. “’Cuz you’re the best ever.”

  9

  SATURDAY, JULY 19, AND SUNDAY, JULY 20

  “Danielle, are you ready to go?” Mom shouts at me.

  “Almost,” I mumble. As we prepare for our trip to Traverse City for my cousin’s wedding, I’m hoping that Mom won’t quiz Ashley and me about all the things that I’ve told her the two of us have done this summer. I know Ashley’s still mad at me from our fight last weekend, and all the time I spend with Reid. Her coming on the trip shows she takes this best-friend stuff as seriously as I do. How friends and families fight, then forgive each other, is one of the great mysteries of nature. Once again, one of Ashley’s oracle pronouncements is totally true: “You can forgive a person for anything if you love them enough.”

  “Ashley’s mother has called twice wondering why we’re late,” Mom says as I hurry into my room to pack my things, including a hot new red dress Reid bought me. In the week that’s passed since I spent the night with him, we’ve actually had some normal boyfriend-girlfriend time together, although I don’t think we’ve been on what anyone would call a date. When we go out together, we usually drive—sometimes with me behind the wheel, if it’s Mom’s car and not the Viper—out to one of the lakes north of Flint, or south around Pontiac. I’ll hang around one of the malls, while Reid goes off someplace. When he comes back, he takes me shopping and buys me things like that red dress. I told Mom that I got it at Goodwill. When she asked, “Do they have one in my size?” I managed to keep it together, but all this lying to Mom is exhausting.

  She needs to shop more at Goodwill, because Carl’s back, with his hand deep in Mom’s purse and his ass firmly planted on the sofa. Things seem better between them. I’ve only picked up the phone to order pizza, not dial 911. Neither of them is drinking, but they’re both smoking more and spending more time in the bedroom with the music turned up loud. Mom’s even watching him play softball, making the ultimate female sacrifice for her man.