Stolen Car

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Stolen Car Page 15

by Patrick Jones


  “Just let me think,” she says, then she leaves the bed and walks over to her desk. She opens her purse and pulls out a hairbrush. Handing the brush to me, she sits on the floor at my feet.

  “You know what my best memory of being a child is?” she asks as I start brushing her hair.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, confused by this out-of-place question.

  “This,” she says. Then she makes a sound like she’s covering up crying by laughing. We’re silent again, except for the sound of the brush making its way through Ashley’s hair. Finally, she says, “I can prove I’m right, if you’ll trust me.”

  “Prove what?”

  “Prove I’m your best friend forever and you can trust me no matter what.” Ashley stands up to hug me tight, then whispers, “And prove I’m right about Reid.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “We’ll catch him cheating on you.”

  “Cheating? With who?”

  “Me,” is all she says. I shake my head in confusion.

  “With my boyfriend?”

  “If tempted, I know he’d cheat on you,” she says. “I don’t want Reid, you know that?”

  “I know.” There are things I don’t know about Ashley, but her loyalty I never question.

  “Let me ask you something. Has he ever said he was sorry for what happened before?” I shake my head. “Has he ever apologized to you, or to anyone that you’ve heard?”

  “Why are you asking me these questions?” I ask, distracting myself from giving a real answer.

  “I knew people like that,” she sputters. She’s as near tears as I’ve ever seen her.

  “Like what?” I ask.

  “You know right from wrong. You feel bad if you hurt someone. Reid can’t.”

  “Yes, he can!”

  “No, Danny, he can’t,” Ashley says. “Reid’s not cool. He’s just got no conscience.”

  “What are you saying?” I’m grabbing on to her hands, which are shaking as badly as mine.

  “Reid is a sociopath,” Ashley says. Her bone-chilling words are: “I saw it, Danny, I saw it in his snake-charmer eyes. He’s dead inside. If you’re not careful, he’s going to destroy you.”

  15

  WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, AUGUST 13

  “Is Danielle here?” Ashley says when Reid answers his door.

  I try not to breathe too heavily, so Reid won’t hear me. Ashley’s phone is on, at the top of her open purse. My phone is jammed against my ear. The cell crackles like fire against my face.

  “No, she’s not,” Reid answers. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to go through with this, but Ashley swears it’s the only way to convince me that Reid is what she says he is. I finally gave in after days of her wearing me down. I want to prove her wrong and slay all my doubts. Now Ashley’s at Reid’s front door, while I’m in the alley listening to their conversation.

  “Well, I need to talk with her,” Ashley says, sounding upset, pretending to cry.

  “Oh yeah, you’re her friend.”

  “Ashley.”

  “We met the day I drove you to the library, right?” he asks, then there’s an awkward silence as Reid doesn’t ask why Ashley needs to talk with me.

  “We had a big fight, and now she’s missing,” she says, making the lie sound like solid truth.

  “She’s not over here,” Reid says, sounding almost bored.

  “I’m really worried,” Ashley says through more fake tears. “It was a big fight.”

  “Over what?”

  “Over you.”

  “Me?” Reid says. I just know he’s breaking out that special smile of his for her.

  “You.” I imagine her fingers adjusting the strap of the tight white top I picked out. I’m wondering if Reid’s looking at her like he looks at me.

  “You wanna come inside, it’s hot as a jungle out there,” he suggests. I hear Ashley follow him into the house. From the number of steps, they’re probably in the living room.

  “Thanks, it’s cooler in here,” she says. I imagine her tossing her hair back out of her eyes.

  “Cooler down the basement,” Reid adds. “Come on down, I’ll get you a beer.”

  “That would be great, thanks,” Ashley lies. I tell myself everything she says is a lie; I wonder if it’s the same with everything Reid’s told me. I listen to them walk down the basement stairs, and I imagine them sitting on the couch by the big-screen TV.

  “You’re fighting about me?” Reid asks over the sound of beer bottles being opened.

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have come over here,” Ashley announces. It sounds like she’s drinking, but strangely I don’t hear her gag like I did my first time or pronounce it “grotesque.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “Umm, I don’t know how to say this,” Ashley says. She’s talking softer now; it’s getting harder to hear, especially over the increased pounding of my heart.

  It sounds like Reid whispers, “You can say whatever you want.”

  “You see, this is so embarrassing. You don’t even know me.”

  “My mistake,” he says, then laughs. “I guess I’m allowed to make one.”

  Ashley giggles the kind of giggle we’d make fun of other girls at school for doing when some boy said something only slightly funny. “Well, I made one coming here.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “We fought because I told Danielle how I’ve thought about you ever since we first came over here. But when I saw you that day, I knew.” Ashley lets the lies rush out of her.

  “Knew what?”

  “Knew I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Ashley says, followed by a long silence, which I wait for Reid to fill by saying something like, “Wow, that’s nice but, you see, Danielle is my girlfriend,” or “You’d better leave now,” or anything. But there’s just quiet.

  “I could tell when I saw you the other day,” he says at last. “The way you stared at me.”

  “I could tell in your eyes exactly who you were.” Ashley’s breathing heavy.

  “You wanna smoke a joint?” Reid says, I think. He’s back to almost whispering.

  Another long pause. “That’s not what I want in my mouth.” Ashley lets the bold words fall.

  “Cool.”

  “No, Reid, cold as hell,” she says. I even gave her the words to say.

  “You are very sexy,” he purrs. No doubt he’s also pawing her. “From what I can see.”

  I hear rustling sounds over the echo of my breaking heart.

  “Very hot, very sexy,” he says, then I hear what sounds like a kiss. It goes on for a while, the longest moment of my life. It ends when Reid finally says, “Especially your mouth.”

  More rustling sounds, then the sound of a beer bottle being set down on a table. More moaning and slurping. And now the jingle of a belt buckle being undone, followed by my boyfriend Reid saying to my best friend forever Ashley, “Why don’t you show me that sexy mouth in action?”

  • • •

  “I hate you!” I shout at Reid’s unshaven face. I wanted to yell it into the cell as soon as I’d heard his words and deeds. Shout it as I let myself in through the back door. Scream it as I got to the top of the basement stairs. But I waited. I waited until I saw him sitting on the sofa with his pants around his ankles, while Ashley assumed my usual position.

  “Hey, wait,” Reid says as he starts pulling up his pants.

  “I hate you!” I shout again, and again, and again.

  “This was all her idea!” He points at Ashley.

  “You’re right, it was,” Ashley says, taking the cell phone out of her purse.

  “This is bullshit!” he shouts, then tries to cool down. “Danielle, just wait. Look at me.”

  “I’ve already seen enough of you!” I scream at him. “How could you do this to me?”

  Reid doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t care. Ashley was right.

  “I’m you
r girlfriend,” I cry out.

  “You were never my girlfriend,” Reid says like he’s spitting in my face. “You were a girlfriend.”

  “Fuck you, Reid!” I shout as I race up the stairs. I hear Ashley’s steps behind me; I don’t hear Reid’s. I wonder if he heard my tears as I ran through his house, or the sound of the front door as I slammed it loud enough to shake the windows. But mostly, I wonder if he heard me lifting the keys to his Viper off the kitchen table.

  16

  WEDNESDAY EVENING, AUGUST 13

  I’m fifteen years old and I’m driving a stolen car. Ashley, my best friend forever, sits beside me. Despite my long light-brown hair, I’m the Goldilocks of the interstate: not too slow, not too fast. The speed is just right to avoid attention, while taking us far away from Flint, from family, from friends, and from a summer filled with faithlessness.

  I don’t want a stolen car; what I need is a time machine to reverse the past two months of my life. Before all this, if someone was doing a word association game and said my name—Danielle Griffin—the word “normal” would have been the right answer. Since I kept my home life hidden from most people, I was just another under-the-radar sophomore at Carmen High School. I used to read books and think, “Why couldn’t something exciting happen to me?” But I’d trade all the turmoil of the past two months in a second to have my boring loveless life back.

  And it is love, or something like it, that has us heading north on I-75 through the hot and muggy August Michigan air. I’m not sure how any of this will end, but for now, I’m driving a stolen car on a steamy starless night, wishing I could vanish into the black void.

  • • •

  “Is Evan there?” I say, as serious as possible. I’m falling apart inside, which I hide by trying to keep it together on the outside. We’re parked at a rest stop on I-75, north of Flint. All my focus has been on the road, not my ravaged soul.

  “Hey, Danielle, is everything all right?” Vic answers.

  “I just need to talk to Evan.”

  “Just a second,” Vic says, then I hear him yell Evan’s name. Trucks pull in and out of the rest stop as I wait.

  “Danielle, what’s wrong?” Evan says when he comes on the line. I notice Vic doesn’t hang up, and I don’t make an issue out of it.

  “Do you have any money?” I ask softly. We started out straight from Reid’s house at Ashley’s suggestion, so we’ve got no clothes, no food, no money, and no plans.

  “What’s wrong?” he repeats.

  “Evan, are you my friend?” I ask.

  “Well, that’s your choice.”

  “Be serious, please!”

  “Of course, Danielle, I’m your friend.”

  “Then I need money,” I say. “I don’t have time to explain right now, but I will later. I’ll tell you the whole story, but right now, if you’re my friend, you’ll bring us some cash.”

  “Us?” Evan asks.

  “Ashley’s with me,” I tell him. “Can you get here quickly?”

  “My mom has the car, so—”

  Vic interrupts. “We’ll take the junker. It’s got a few miles left in it. Where are you?”

  I give him the location, trying to sound a lot calmer than I am.

  “How the hell did you get all the way up there?” Evan asks.

  “I’ve stolen a car,” I say, but before Evan can say anything, Vic jumps back in.

  “What’d you boost?” Vic asks.

  “A red Dodge Viper,” I say, and I swear I can hear Vic smile through the phone.

  “Sweet ride,” Vic says. “Think he’ll miss it?”

  “More than he’ll miss me,” I say. Then I hang up.

  “Where should we go?” I ask Ashley. We’ve got the windows rolled down as I smoke the last of Reid’s Newports. I need his taste in my mouth one last time to make all of this real.

  “Let’s just keep driving north, okay?” she says softly. I nod, wondering if this trip north will finally help me color in Ashley’s life and uncover the secrets I sense she’s been hiding from me.

  “Sounds like a plan,” I say, then start to laugh so I don’t cry. Ashley’s parents and Mom will be looking for us. I’m not sure about Reid. I’m not sure about anything anymore, except that Reid won’t call the police. As Vic once told me, the best person to steal from is another thief.

  We talk some more, or rather I talk and Ashley listens. I pour out my heart and my hurt and my hate, all of them mixed up. Ashley never says I told you so, instead she just listens.

  After about an hour, Vic and Evan finally show up in the junker. They park next to us. Vic’s laughing, but Evan looks confused.

  Vic turns the car around and parks. Evan gets out and walks over while Vic stays behind. “What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?” Evan asks.

  “I’ll get myself out of it,” I say, putting out my hand. He hands me a wad of cash, then I kiss him on the cheek. “Like the Beatles say, ‘I’ll get by with a little help from my friends.’”

  He doesn’t try to turn the kiss into anything else. Instead, he looks down at the ground in front of us, then says all serious, “Danielle, just tell me what’s going on. Tell me how I can help.”

  “I’ll be okay.” I’m lying to him, because I can’t explain how angry and afraid I am right now.

  “I’m worried about you,” he says softly.

  “Evan, I’m sorry,” I say just as softly. I’m speaking to Evan, but I’m looking over at Vic. I wish he could hear my words too when I say, “I haven’t been very nice to you.”

  Evan shrugs his shoulders, then says, “Don’t worry, everything’s okay between us. Call me when you get back.”

  I wave goodbye as Evan climbs back into Vic’s junker. I notice Vic isn’t in the car anymore; he’s kneeling behind the Viper. Ashley and I get out and walk behind the car.

  “What are you doing?” Ashley asks.

  “Switching plates,” Vic says. “I snagged ’em off a rental car at the airport.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Look, if Reid reports his car stolen, they’ll be looking for his plates,” Vic says. “So, we’ll just put these plates on, and nobody knows nothing for a while. It’ll buy you some time.”

  “You’re a genius,” I say, patting Vic on the shoulder.

  “No, my brother’s the genius,” Vic says. “I’m just a thief.”

  “An ex-thief,” I correct him.

  He laughs, then heads back to his car as Ashley and I climb back into Reid’s Viper on our way north.

  I merge onto the interstate, feeling more confident. I’ve turned on the radio, and I have even managed to find my smile.

  “What are you thinking about?” Ashley asks.

  “How sweet Evan is,” I tell her.

  “There are two kinds of people in this world; don’t you know that by now?” She settles back in her seat like the philosopher queen on her throne. “There’s people like Reid who take, and there’s people like Evan who give.”

  “I don’t know how Evan could still like me and say everything was okay.”

  “You’d be amazed what you can forgive in this world,” Ashley says.

  “I guess,” I mutter.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?” she asks. Without taking my eyes off the road, I give a big headshake. “I can prove that to you as well.”

  “How’s that?” I ask.

  “Just keep driving north.” She’s looking at the map that now rests in her lap.

  “To Tawas?” I ask. She nods and I decide I’m going to be a person who takes, and Ashley’s going to be a person who finally gives me an answer.

  “So, what’s there?” I ask her.

  “I can’t tell you, not yet,” Ashley says.

  “What did you say to me? ‘Best friends forever’ isn’t just an expression, it’s a promise. And the promise is that you tell each other the truth, so how about it?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Ashley, you can do anything,” I
tell her. “You proved that today.”

  “I guess,” she mumbles.

  “You can trust me,” I say. “I think I proved that today as well.”

  “That’s true,” she says, trying not to smile.

  “So why are we driving north?” I continue. “What’s in Tawas?”

  Ashley’s silent for a while, but I swear I hear her heart beating faster. “I’m going to prove one more thing to you,” she finally says.

  “What’s that?”

  She looks out the window into the starless night. Her voice sounds broken when she says, “Something real important that I told you once: you can forgive a person for anything if you love them enough.”

  • • •

  “Danielle, where are you?” Mom manages to mix all of the anger, fear, and worry that are running through her body into just four words.

  “I can’t tell you,” I say. We’ve driven another seventy miles or so, but Ashley hasn’t said another word after her last oracle pronouncement. She’s not sleeping; she’s just not speaking.

  “What are you talking about?” Mom asks. I look at the clock in the car. I’m past late. I’ve had the cell turned off just in case Reid called. Actually, I turned it off so I wouldn’t know that he wasn’t calling. When I finally turn it on, all my messages are from Mom, none from Reid.

  “Mom,” I say, trying to stay calm, “you know how I always say you have to trust me?”

  “All the time.”

  “This time I mean it. I’m not coming home to night. Ashley and I are okay. Things are just complicated, but you have to trust me that we’re both okay.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Mom, I’m okay. I don’t want to say anything else. Don’t worry.”

  “Don’t worry! How can you say that?” she says, almost hysterical. “You’re three hours late coming home and you won’t tell me where you are. Of course I’m worried.”

  “Mom, please, I just need some time,” I tell her calmly, but she’s still anxious.

  “I’m coming to get you,” she announces. “I’ll have Carl call the police. I’ll—”

  “Mom, no. You can’t do that. I have to work this out on my own.”

  “Work what out?”

 

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