by Nicole Fox
Mother left me alone for only a few minutes while she schmoozed with the politicians who had been roped into participating, and I wandered over to the refreshments table where several of the other candidates were hovering. They spoke quietly to each other, but their glances became furtive when they saw me approach.
“Hey, girls. How’s the punch?” It sounded lame and I knew it, but I had to have something to say to them. Anything was better than, “Hey, sorry I totally kicked your ass in the pageant.”
Apparently, they were thinking that anyway. “It’s okay,” shrugged a short girl with curly red hair as she sidled a little further away from me.
“So, I guess you got your cars all lined up?” It was traditional for any pageant participants to ride in the back of a convertible, and each girl was responsible for arranging this herself. There were usually plenty of volunteers, though.
“Yeah, not that it matters,” said Kelly with a flick of her long, dark hair. She had been in the pageant for several years, and she always came in second. “Your mother had already gotten you the brand-new Camaro convertible from Nelson’s Auto Sales. That cherry red would have looked fabulous with my dress, but I’m stuck in some old blue car my dad’s friend has.” She shot me a rueful look as she popped a strawberry in her mouth.
I knew she resented me, both for winning and for the car, but I couldn’t help it. I wouldn’t have even entered the pageant if I’d had my say. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it won’t be that bad. And I think your dress would look fine against a blue car.”
“Not when it’s being driven by his creepy friend. He’ll probably be saying pervy things to me during the entire parade, and I’ll have to paste on a smile and pretend it’s okay. Thanks a lot, Bambi.”
“You know, I have to wonder how you won the crown anyway.” This was from Sandy, who stood tall and lean with short blonde hair. She walked up to me until she stood so close that she towered over me, her slanted eyes staring straight down into mine. “Who did you sleep with?”
Aghast, I took a step back. “I didn’t sleep with anybody. I just did my best.”
“Right,” she said with a knowing look over her shoulder at the other girls. “With a name like Bambi, you’ve got to be some sort of whore. I guess we’ll all get to see just how far this crown takes you when you end up dancing at Club Carnal for a living.” Her nasty laugh pealed throughout the room, and the other girls joined her.
I should have said something. My mother never would have let anyone get away with speaking like that, but I couldn’t seem to make my lips move. I was frozen in place for one horrifying moment before I finally turned and found a seat next to Mother just as the meeting was about to begin.
“I want to thank all of you for coming,” said Mayor Ward, smiling under his ample mustache as he studied the assembly. “My assistant is passing out some information that details where you’re positioned in the parade as well as where you’re supposed to wait until it’s your turn. As I’m sure you know, we’ll march all the way from 21st Street to 7th Street, and it’s going to be a wonderful event!” He droned on, talking about all of the accomplishments of the year’s grand marshal, an octogenarian who had attended every single parade since she was born.
Mother was captivated, listening to every word with her hands clutched in her lap. She would soak up the information in the hopes of being able to tell someone else about it later and sound superior. That was her usual motive, anyway, and I had no doubt that it was any different this time.
I turned to the long row of windows that faced Main Street. People roamed up and down the sidewalk with cotton candy and giant teddy bears, hauling home their souvenirs from the Peach Festival. Several blocks of the downtown area had been completely closed down so that rides, carnival games, and food vendors could be set up in parking lots and on side streets. Couples and families made the long walks back to their cars where they had left them in alleys and in front of stores.
Even though I knew it wouldn’t happen for me, I longed to be out there with them. I wanted to walk up and down the sidewalk and take in all the sights while I ate a big peach tart and spent far too much money trying to win a stuffed animal. But even though I was the Peach Festival Queen, I wasn’t allowed to head out with my friends. No, Mother kept me right at her side all the time. Secretly, I wondered what would happen if I simply stood up from my seat and walked out. Mother would follow me, but it would be interesting to see how far I could get before she dragged me back.
A roar sounded somewhere outside, and now everyone in the community center was looking out the windows. A group of motorcycles came charging down the street, pausing for only a second at the stoplight before moving on. They were big men with beards, leather clothing, and so many tattoos their original skin was barely visible. Seated close to the windows as I was, I could see them in such detail that I felt as though I was outside with them. My heart soared to see how free they were, how they could just glide off down the road and go anywhere they wished.
“Can you believe it? They shouldn’t let people like that into town,” said an old woman in front of me as she shook her head.
“Myrtle Creek used to be a safe place,” her friend confirmed, her white head bobbing. “Everyone’s so liberal these days, and we get rabble like this.”
One of riders paused a little longer than the others, and his face turned to the window. We locked eyes, and a thrill shot up from my feet to my throat. He was tall and handsome, his muscles sleek and lengthy as he held the handlebars of his ride. Just like any other biker, I knew he had to be a bad boy. He probably drank and smoked. It was likely that he was rude and mean, maybe even cruel.
But he was free. While I was stuck in here like a fish in a tank, he was riding towards whatever he chose. Maybe he was even riding away from something, but at least he was able to choose. He cranked the throttle and was gone, leaving a faint cloud of exhaust and the fading noise of the motorcycles. My heart sank slowly back down into my stomach, cold and heavy like a stone.
“Well, then,” the mayor said, eager to bring everyone back to the matter at hand. “Let’s get back to business. I would also like to thank Miss Bambi Bidwell, our Peach Festival Queen. She’s the definition of Myrtle Creek spirit and soul, and we couldn’t be happier to have her with us this year. Let’s all give her a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen.”
The roar of clapping around me did nothing for me like the sound of those motorcycles did. My cheeks burned, but not because I was embarrassed at the attention. All eyes were on me, especially those of my mother, but I could think of nothing but that sexy man outside.
Chapter 3
Snake
“Come on, Snake. Why are we here? I know we said we needed something to do in this town, but going to a parade isn’t really my kind of thing.” Rubble kicked the gravel in the parking lot and squinted against the bright sun.
We had taken a position near the front of the parade, where we would be sure not to miss anything. I had ripped down the poster in the bar as I left, and it was now folded up in my back pocket. I didn’t need to look at it to know the face of the girl I was looking for. She was so different from anyone else, and certainly different from the women I was usually with. I was grateful for Rusty’s bet, since it had given me a reason to go after her. Otherwise, the rest of the guys would have given me shit ten times over for pursuing a beauty queen.
“Just be patient,” I said. “Or go get some food. That always seems to make you happy.”
“I’ve already tried all the peach cobbler, peach milkshakes, and peach turnovers I can handle,” he groused. “And that shit is expensive. I could ride all the way to my grandma’s house and spend less money in gas just to get some dessert.”
I was after a little dessert myself, but not the same kind. “Look, I told you why I was here. This is where the girl on the poster is going to be. I know it’s not a big town, but I’m guaranteed to find her here. If you have better things to do, like trying to win the bet yourself, the
n I suggest you go do them.”
Rubble rubbed his hand up and down his arm, feeling the fine scabs from his most recent tattoo. “Naw, I’ve lost already. I tried talking to that waitress again last night before we left the bar. Her manager came over and told me to leave her alone or else he’d call the cops.”
I grinned. “I’m not sure that’s ever stopped you before.” Like most of the Warriors, Rubble had been in and out of jail numerous time in his adult life, and probably several times even before that.
He shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t care except that Bruiser said not to start any trouble. He pulled me aside last night and told me specifically. I don’t see why. I mean, that warehouse fire back in Houston was not my fault.”
Silently, I wished I had picked someone else to come with me. Axle would have been happy to scout for hot chicks at the parade, but he had some things to fix on his bike. Rusty was sleeping in at the old motel we were crashing at, and Moose said he had made some progress with the woman from the bar. They were supposed to get together again that afternoon, so my little plan of tracking down the Peach Festival Queen wasn’t very interesting to him.
The crowd in Myrtle Creek was surprisingly big. People lined the main road, grabbing spots anywhere on the sidewalk and even out into the street. Firetrucks and police cars headed up the procession, their lights going and their sirens blaring. Next came several cars full of older folks, probably the town council. Then came a float holding the class of 1960, and their queen right behind them. She still wore her crown, but she was dressed in a conservative suit and had a puff of gray hair. She was definitely not the same person who had earned her place as Peach Festival Queen.
I shifted from foot to foot, wondering just how much more heat I could take in my leathers. Finally, several convertibles came down the street, each with a beautiful woman in the back. The first was a tall blonde who waved to the audience as though she was the queen, even though the sign on her car clearly stated she was a runner-up. Another girl, dark and beautiful, stared at the gathered crowd as though it was their fault she was forced to be in the parade. She kept her lips in a firm line. A short girl with flaming red hair came next, and finally behind her was a bright red Camaro.
I knew the woman in the back instantly. She sat tall and straight, her sparkling silver dress glittering in the sunlight. Her teeth were brilliantly white against her red lips, and her blonde hair blew gently in the breeze. She was everything that had been advertised on the poster, and even more so now that I knew she was real. Her eyes scanned the crowd and locked on mine. I had her.
Suddenly, I realized this wasn’t the first time I’d seen her. She was the same girl that had been staring out the window of the community center as the guys and I rode by the previous afternoon. I had seen the longing in her eyes, like a lioness in a cage at the zoo. It had been tempting to pull over, burst through the glass doors, and drag her off, but there had been far too many people in attendance. I had to bide my time.
An older woman sat in the passenger seat of the car, which seemed odd since none of the other candidates had anyone but a driver. I looked on the sign hanging off the side of the car to see if she was anyone important, but there was no indication. Shrugging, I watched her face as she passed by, and I saw something I didn’t like.
“Come on.” I grabbed Rubble by the sleeve and dragged him away from the crowed.
“What? I thought this was what you wanted to do.” He pointed over his shoulder where the parade was still going by. “There are still tons of cars and floats coming.”
I ignored him and stormed off to my motorcycle.
Chapter 4
Bambi
The sun blazed down, and I wondered how long my makeup would last. It was the expensive stuff, which my mother always somehow managed to find a way to brag about. Still, I could feel the sweat creeping down from my hairline as I stepped up on the back seat of the convertible to sit on the back.
“Make sure you smile,” Mother reminded me for the fiftieth time. “Everyone is here to see you, so don’t let them down. Make Myrtle Creek proud, now.”
I nodded as she rearranged my hair around my shoulders and adjusted the straps of my dress. “Yes, Mother.”
She leaned down to talk to the driver. “You don’t mind if I ride along, do you? My daughter might need me.”
The man who had been sent from the dealership—I couldn’t remember his name, only that he was the head salesman and claimed he was honored to be my chauffeur—was already seated behind the wheel. He blinked at her for a moment before he responded. “Well, I suppose not. I mean, I know that’s not what’s usually done, but I don’t see why not …”
“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and went around the front of the car to hop in the passenger seat. “Won’t that be lovely, dear? We can be right here together!”
I didn’t bother reminding her that if she rode with me, we would have to find a ride back to the other side of town to get back to her car. The man from the dealership would likely oblige, but it was rude to assume he would. Besides, I knew exactly why she wanted to be in the car, and it wasn’t for my sake.
Monique Bidwell had never been a beautiful woman, and she’d never had the chance to even compete for queen. I’d seen the pictures of her from back in high school and college. I could see how hard she’d tried, dressing in the trendiest clothes, constantly styling her hair, and wearing tons of makeup no matter what the occasion. But it just wasn’t in the cards for her. Now, as my mother, she thought she could live all her dreams through me. That was part of why it was so hard for me to say anything to her. I felt sorry for her, even though it was making my life miserable.
The parade began, and there was no more time to worry about it. I had a job to do. The crowd was packed beginning at the first block, and as I looked down the street I saw nothing but a path lined with people. They were packed at least five or six deep, waving and cheering. I knew, no matter what Mother tried to say, that they weren’t all there for me. They were there for the candy thrown from the floats, their friends and family who were participating, and the simple fact that the Peach Festival was the biggest event in town.
Still, I couldn’t help that I was letting them down even as small girls and old men waved and smiled at me. I should be thrilled that I was being celebrated, that I was so loved by the population. I should have felt pride lifting me up as we crept down the street, but I only felt shame. I had entered the contest because my mother had made me. I had worn the right dress and had the right hairstyle and said the right answers to the questions because my mother had coached me. She had poked and prodded and pushed until I was perfect. But I knew that wasn’t really me. I didn’t want to spend my weekends driving to fancy stores in the city or rehearsing my walk across the stage. I just wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere with a book or go out with my friends. I wanted to find a nice guy and go on a date. But I was stuck here in the back of a car, with a fake smile on my face.
I looked at the audience, barely paying any attention to them, when I saw a familiar visage grinning at me. In his leathers and denim, it was obvious he didn’t belong in Myrtle Creek. Tall and slim but well-muscled, he gave me a crooked smile that made my heart jump right out of the car and fall onto the road. My hand, which had been waving constantly since the parade had started, slowly fell to my side as I stared at him. Tattoos snaked down his arms to his knuckles, and his dark hair was slicked back. He wasn’t just watching the parade in general, he was watching me.
The biker raised his hand and wiped his face, gesturing at me to do the same. I lifted my perfectly-manicured hand to my cheeks, feeling the tears that had been slipping down. Brushing them away carefully, I looked down at my mother to make sure she wasn’t watching. She was too busy soaking up all the attention she imagined she was getting. When I looked back up, the biker was gone.
Slackening my posture a little, I wondered what was wrong with me that I was looking for hope in the form of some st
range bad boy whom I’d never seen before. But it confirmed what I had been denying for a long time: I didn’t like this life anymore. Maybe I never had. Mother had been pushing her agenda on me practically since I was born, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t leave right then. But as soon as the parade was over, I was going to take back my life.
I smiled and waved at the crowd once again as I envisioned the conversation that would ensue. I would explain that it was time for me to live my life for myself. I was nineteen now, and she had no control over me. Mother would brush me off at first, thinking that I was joking, but I would let her know I was serious. I would prove I meant it by going out and getting a job, even if it was just some part-time gig at a gas station, and I would save up until I could move out on my own. There were so many things I wanted to do with my life, and being fawned over by the people of my little town just wasn’t one of them.
We had finally reached the end of the parade in front of the courthouse, where the mayor presided over the entire affair. The convertible pulled over, and my driver helped me down to the sidewalk.
“Come on, dear. We have to shake hands with the mayor,” Mother whispered, still not aware that this wasn’t about her. “Make sure you look to your right and smile. All the news cameras are over there, and everyone will see you.”