Stolen Car

by Patrick Jones

  “I know, it’s okay,” she says, but I don’t believe her. Nor do I believe it when she reaches her hand out toward him. Reid looks skeptical, even confused at the gesture.

  “It’s cool,” he says, throwing out a fist rather than an open hand.

  Now Ashley looks confused. It’s like two strangers in a foreign country speaking different languages. She looks over at me, then seems to stare right through Reid as she taps her fist lightly against his. She finally takes her eyes off him to inspect the two-seat Viper. Then she asks, “So where do I sit?”

  “On my lap, I guess,” I say with a laugh, although Ashley doesn’t even crack a smile.

  “Well, at least it’s not the backseat,” she says.

  Reid puts the top up. I crawl in the passenger seat and Ashley climbs on top. Reid seems amused, but we don’t talk about it. Instead, we listen to music that Reid chooses (T-Pain), and drive down I-75 at our usual eighty miles an hour. Once we get to the library and the car stops, Ashley bolts. I hand Reid back his glasses, then lean over to kiss him, but he turns away.

  “You angry at me?” I whisper, my eyes looking away.

  “Sure you don’t wanna have fun instead of doing this?” Reid whispers in response.

  “Maybe to night at your house, but I need to see Ashley now.” I wish Ashley could hear me saying this.

  “Things are getting crazy, so I’m cooling things down for a while all around,” Reid says.

  “Just us?” I look up at him. Sometimes, like now, he seems so much taller than me.

  “Nah, gotta cool it altogether,” he says. I see Ashley outside the car, still staring at Reid.

  “I understand,” I say. Just a little white lie between lovers.

  “So maybe next week sometime, if you wanna come over then,” he says, putting on his shades. I kiss him, then wave goodbye and join Ashley at the library’s front door. People all over the library must be looking up from their books and computers as Reid noisily peels out.

  “Did you read the book this time?” Ashley asks, half-joking.

  “The back of it,” I confess.

  She rolls her eyes, then laughs. “Well, I’m sure you’re good at faking it.”

  “Ouch,” I say. She pinches my arm and I pinch her back as we walk into the library.

  The book discussion goes pretty well: Dave, Lauren and her friends, and this new girl Sarah Michelle talk the most. Sarah’s pretty funny, or at least Ashley thought so, laughing at most everything she said. She’s smarter than most pretty girls and prettier than most smart girls, although that kind of stuff doesn’t bother me anymore.

  “Let’s see if Sarah wants to hang out with us. Is that okay?” Ashley says.

  “I guess,” I mumble.

  “What’s wrong?” She reads me better than any book.

  “Can I just have a smoke first?” I say. Ashley rolls her eyes, just like old times. I head outside, while she finds Sarah.

  I stand behind the library smoking and checking my cell phone messages. I call Reid, but he doesn’t pick up. I think about calling Evan, but that would be the opposite of what Vic wants. Evan won’t be happy unless I’m his girlfriend. I can’t call any of the folks from Reid’s. I don’t know most of their names, let alone their phone numbers. I think about Vic asking me to imagine five years from now. Would I be like Wayne, Becca, and the rest hanging around Reid’s: not moving forward, just swaying in the wind?

  “You ready?” Ashley shouts from the front door.

  “Where’s Sarah?” I shout back as she walks over toward me.

  “She’s not coming,” Ashley grumbles, sounding angry, hurt, rejected.

  “Why not?” I ask, putting out the smoke on the concrete wall of the library.

  “Guess everybody has a boyfriend they’d rather be with.”

  “You could have a boyfriend in an instant,” I remind her. “Evan’s so available.”

  “Shut up,” she exclaims with great exaggeration.

  “I know he likes you too,” I say, trying to be nice, but instead I’m met with a hard glare. Ashley’s eyes are darker now, thanks to the thick goth-like eye makeup she’s applied.

  “What, so I get your rejects?” she says, hands on her hips. “I’m not good enough.”

  “I was trying to be nice,” I explain, expecting a shoulder pat, but her dark stare beams back at me like a laser.

  “About time,” she mumbles, then walks away. I catch up with her at the reflecting pool.

  “What does that mean?” I ask as I sit down next to her.

  “You haven’t been real nice to me this summer,” Ashley says, taking off her shoes.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, knowing I’ve been in the wrong and no words can make it right.

  “I can’t stay mad at you,” she says, then puts her feet into the pool.

  “Me either,” I say, even though I’m not really mad at Ashley, just at myself.

  She points toward my shoes. I kick them off, then plunge my feet into the cooling water. “This is nice,” she says, then splashes a little water my way.

  “What I said about Evan was just me trying to be nice about you getting a boyfriend.”

  “Really?”

  “I think he would be your boyfriend, if you wanted one,” I say.

  “You just don’t want to feel guilty,” she says, splashing me again.

  “Okay, you got me, that’s part of it, but—”

  “Guilt kills,” Ashley announces in her best oracle tone.

  “But still, I know he likes you and—”

  “And love ruins everything,” Ashley says. She’s on a truth-telling roll.

  “Ashley, don’t talk that way.” I splash her, but get nothing in return. She sits for the longest time looking at her reflection in the pool. The wind’s pushing the water around, making both of our faces look distorted, like some crazy Halloween mask or funhouse mirror.

  Finally she glares over at me and says, “If you love someone, they will leave you, and when they leave you, then you have nothing left except guilt and memories.”

  “Ash, I don’t understand why you get this way.”

  “This summer, you’ve abandoned me. I don’t need that again.”

  “Ashley, I won’t do that.”

  “Yes, you will,” she says with no emotion in her voice. “People always leave me.”

  I turn to face her, then hug her as I say, “I won’t do that. We’re best friends, forever.”

  “Forever doesn’t last as long as you think,” she says, back in her oracle mode again.

  “What is wrong with you?” I ask in a begging tone, but I don’t know if she hears me. She pulls her feet out of the pool like someone dropped in a live wire. I sit looking at my reflection. Not liking what I see, I start kicking wildly, and the water splashes all around me.

  “There’s something I want to say to you,” Ashley says. “I thought about it the entire time I was away.”

  “What is it?”

  She puts her hand on my shoulder and her face against mine and whispers, “You know, Danielle, ‘best friends forever’ isn’t just an expression, it’s a promise.”

  AUGUST

  13

  SUNDAY, AUGUST 3

  “What class should I take first?” Mom asks. She’s sitting at the table still dressed in church clothes. She’s smoking, drinking black coffee, and looking at a Baker College catalog.

  “I don’t know,” I say impatiently. We did church this morning and are talking about college this afternoon, but there’s still plenty of beer around. Well, two out of three ain’t bad.

  “A little support would be nice,” she says. “Matter of fact, you could use some support yourself. You’re not to dress that way for church again.”

  “Whatever, Mom,” I snap. Maybe a low-cut beater wasn’t right for Sunday morning, but since I can’t see Reid right now, I’ll wear the gifts he’s given me.

  “Did you hear that sermon today?” she asks, then points for me to sit down with h
er.

  “Maybe,” I say. Truth is, I kinda slept through most of church. Actually, it was more like I was in one of those Ashley-style trances where I block everything else out. When she does that, I never know what she’s thinking, but my thoughts are always drawn to Reid.

  Mom takes a puff, then says, “It was about being truthful.”

  “So?” is my eye-hiding response.

  “I want to know all about this boy you are dating, now.”

  “I told you before, it’s none of your business.”

  “If it involves you, baby, it is my business,” is her expected response.

  I try to get up from the table, but she actually grabs my hand. She glances quickly at the set of silver skull rings I’m now wearing, then sighs. Like my new clothes, the rings are gifts from Reid. I try to shake my hand free, but she holds on tight as I say, “Mom, you just wouldn’t understand because—”

  “Because I’m not fifteen and immature.” She blows smoke in the air, but it feels like it’s in my face.

  “No, because my boyfriend is nice to me, treats me like I’m somebody special, and tells me I’m beautiful. He’s got a cool car and not some crappy truck. Oh, yeah, did I mention he’s a good-looking guy who isn’t a drunk? Unlike some people.” I point toward the bedroom, where Carl is, of course, sleeping off a hangover.

  “That’s quite enough of that.”

  “I wish you’d had enough of that loser,” I snap back.

  “I said enough!” She slaps the table with her right hand so hard that drops of black coffee explode out of the white cup. The sound stuns us both, but it allows me to get my hand free from hers. “You’ve got no right to say those things about Carl.”

  “I never said Carl’s name.”

  “You’re developing quite the attitude, young lady.”

  “Oh, I also forgot to mention my boyfriend doesn’t hit me.”

  “That’s not your business!” she shouts, then adds, “Nor, for that matter, is it Ashley’s.”

  “Well, somebody—,” I start, but then figure, why bother? I’d rather spend my time trying to figure out why Ashley reacted the way she did than talking to my deaf, dumb, and blind mother.

  “Look, I want some answers,” Mom says.

  “So do I,” I say. “How can you let men treat you like they do?”

  As I hoped, that question silences her. Her eyes flash anger as her shaking hand grinds the remains of her cigarette into an overstuffed ashtray. I shake my head, no longer in disgust but with sadness, and then walk slowly back to my room. Mom doesn’t say anything to me; instead she tosses the Baker College catalog into the trash, like so many wasted dreams.

  • • •

  I grab my bike and head out to Fenton Lawn to smoke and swing. I need to work out some of this energy, and try to relax. After these fights with Mom, I’ve got to talk to someone. I try Ashley but she doesn’t pick up. I can’t call Evan because I’m angry at him for not lying for me, so I decide to call Reid. Not to discuss Mom—I’m sure that kind of talk would remind him I’m still a stupid fifteen-year-old—but just to hear his voice and picture his face in my mind.

  He doesn’t pick up his cell, which is becoming all too familiar because of how busy he is, although he always calls back. I know he said we needed to cool things for a while, but I’m so upset that normal rules can’t apply. I hate to act all needy, but I really have to talk with him, so I try his house phone. It’s been a long time since I dialed the Barkers’ number, so I hope it’s right.

  “Hello,” a familiar female voice answers.

  “Um, is Reid there?” I ask.

  “Danielle?”

  I know who this is. “Yeah. Is that Kate?”

  “Hey, what’s up?” she asks.

  “What are you doing there?” I ask quickly.

  “My dad dropped me off for the day. It’s my mom’s birthday,” Kate says.

  “I didn’t know,” is all I can think to say.

  There’s a long pause. Since Kate and I haven’t talked in years, I’m not surprised we don’t fall right back into best-friend rhythm. We somehow kick-start the conversation, talking about nothing but her summer, her boyfriend, her tan, always about her. When she’s run out of things to brag about, I get back to my business. “So, is Reid there?”

  “So, you called for Reid?” she asks, but her tone shows she knows about us. I don’t know why, but part of me didn’t want her to find out, while another part—especially after her brag-fest—embraces this sweet and spiteful moment.

  “Well, he and I have—,” I start slowly, not sure how much Reid would want me to say.

  “So, my former best friend is blowing my brother,” she says, then laughs.

  I hate that word, but I don’t contradict her. Mom just reminded me that it’s wrong to lie.

  “Kind of surprises me, though,” she says, with another small laugh.

  I know it’s a trap, but I can’t resist. “Why’s that?”

  “He’s not into butter faces,” she says, very softly, like a gun with a silencer.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s what Reid calls girls like you,” she continues. “Butter faces. You know, everything’s hot but her face. You finally got some great boobs, Danielle, but—”

  “I don’t believe you,” I snap, even as I’m melting like a butter face inside. Did Reid really say this about me, or is she lying? I can’t ask because I don’t really want to know.

  “That’s a mistake, old BFF,” Kate says. “Why would I lie to you?”

  “To hurt me,” I say, almost embarrassed to admit that I can be hurt.

  “Danielle, why would I want to hurt you?” she counters. “Look, we were best friends and we let some stupid shit happen between us. I know we’re different now, but girl, I don’t want to see you heartbroken and all that shit.”

  “Really?” I’m trying to say as little as possible to cover up my pre-cry sniffling.

  “Really,” Kate says. “Believe me, my brother is going to hurt you.”

  “No, he—” But I pause.

  “I know he says he needs you. He tells you you’re hot. He gives you shit.”

  I don’t say anything as Kate tells me about my life.

  “Better I tell you than you learn it the hard way, but Reid doesn’t give a shit about you,” she continues as I hold back those tears. “Reid cares about Reid—or can’t you see that?”

  “No, you’re wrong.”

  “He’s got you tangled up in his bullshit,” she says. “You boosting shit for him yet?”

  “No,” I snap back, troubled mostly by the word “yet.”

  “Just wait, it’s part of his game,” she says.

  “You’re wrong, you don’t know him at all,” I counter.

  “He’s my fucking brother, Danielle!” she shouts. “I know what he is.”

  “Lay off him! You know better than anyone what a hard life Reid’s had.” I’m shouting now as I decide to fight back and stand up for Reid, as he did for me that day in his basement.

  “Hard life?” Kate laughs.

  “He told me how your dad hit and burned him. How your mom’s drunk all the time.”

  “God, he’s fed you a whole line of bullshit,” she says. “You believe that shit?”

  “It’s true.”

  “Mom’s never been drunk that I know of,” she says without any giveaway wavering in her voice. “Dad never hit or burned anyone. Reid did that himself; he’s a burner.”

  “What?”

  “That’s why my parents live apart,” she continues. “Dad wanted to ship Reid to a boot camp to get his shit together, but Mom wouldn’t have it. They fought all the time, and finally it was too much and Dad left. Reid burned more than himself: he burned down our family.”

  “Why are you lying to me?”

  “Danielle, I’m not the one who’s lying,” Kate says, and then says nothing else. My vocal cords are silent but my nose, eyes, and throat create a symphony of stifled c
rying sounds.

  “Are you there?” Kate says after a few minutes.

  I clear my throat, then say defiantly before I hang up, “Just tell Reid I called.”

  • • •

  Just like the night I called 911, I’m on my bike again pedaling furiously, rain pouring down my face. But this time the rain is my own tears. It’s a monsoon of emotion. By the time I get home, Carl’s gone to Sunday softball; Mom’s doing her two-to-ten waitress shift. I call Reid one last time and, through a tornado of tears, leave a message begging him to come save me—then I collapse on my bed. All I want to do is sleep, then wake up, not in a few hours, but back at the start of this morning. Then maybe I could avoid the fight with my mom and the spite of Kate’s lies. Or maybe I could wake up before I met Reid. Wake up back in my boring, simple life again.

  The honking of the Viper’s horn and the pounding bass wake me. I look at the clock and see it’s a few minutes past seven. Reid’s come to save me, so I pull myself together. I do a quick makeup job, run a brush through my hair, and put on another tight tank top Reid gave me.

  I lock the door behind me, and the heat that’s been building all day hits me. I’ve had nothing to eat since breakfast, so I’m feeling sick, with a stomach full of salty tears. Before I can join Reid in the Viper, I need to sit down. The top’s up and the music’s blasting, but with the tinted windows, I can’t see him. He’s waiting inside while I’m wavering, sitting on the short three-step porch. It’s like all of Kate’s lying and Mom’s hating has crippled me. I’m broiling in the August sun waiting for Reid to come to me. I tell myself that when he does, everything will be okay.

  The music grows louder. Reid’s head appears from out of the Viper. His shirt’s off, his sunglasses are on, and he’s got a red towel around his neck. Snapping his Razr phone shut, Reid throws the towel at me as he shouts, “Climb in! It’s time for night swimming!”

  I take a deep breath, stand up, and turn to go back inside for my bathing suit. Not that ugly black one-piece, but a hot red bikini Reid and I bought together.

  “Where you going?” he asks, but before I can answer, or unlock the door, he says, “Baby, you don’t need anything but your sexy self.”