Southern Exposure

by Lari Smythe

  Chapter 4

  Cathy's fear, and warning made me mad. I raced out the front door to see for myself.

  "You can't!" Cathy shouted as she ran through the exit behind me.

  I took a breath of the humid, night air. "Can't?"

  "Fight them."

  "But you said if I stood my ground they'd leave me alone."

  Cathy's face turned red and she started to cry. Her blood, so close to the surface combined with her copious tears was too much. I pushed back toward the bushes along the front of the building.

  Cathy followed. "That's good," she sniffled, "we'll hide until they leave."

  "But you said—"

  "It's not that easy," she said, her head drooping, shaking from side-to-side. "It's not that easy at all."

  "They're just boys, it's not like they're going to hurt us."

  Cathy looked up, her cheeks streaked with mascara. "You're wrong, the world is theirs. People like us just exist in the shadows." She was almost back in that zombie-like state she'd been in when I first spotted her inside the store.

  "Okay, we don't have to fight them—I wasn't going to anyway. I'm just a girl, right? We can just leave, you know get in the car and drive away."

  "You really think so?"

  "It's my car, right? What can they do? Come on, we can do this." I led Cathy out from behind the bushes. Two boys I recognized from school gave us a strange look as they veered sharply away, leaving a wide berth. Despite the initial surge of anger, I'd calmed down considerably. I was right, they were just high school boys. I could handle them as long as I kept my anger in check.

  Cathy and I walked slowly down the sidewalk and as we started across the parking lot, the flashing yellow lights of a mall security vehicle turned down the far end of the row where my car was parked. The car matched our pace arriving at the group of boys the same time we did. Cathy was cowering behind me. The white security Jeep stopped directly in front of my car.

  "Evenin' kids," a deep voice grumbled from inside the jeep.

  "Hey, Mr. Castle," Derrick replied, "you doin' chains again this year?"

  "Yep, I like the action up close." He glanced toward Cathy and me. "Girls," he said through half a cough, like he wasn't convinced. He looked back toward the boys. "That yours?" he said to Derrick, nodding toward my car.

  "You kidin'?" Derrick gawked. "New girl claims its hers. I figure it's stolen or somethin'."

  "Well, easy enough to check." Mr. Castle called on his radio and repeated my tag number into the microphone. While he was waiting for a response, Derrick and his crew got this cocky, gotcha smile on their faces. "Yep, I'm still here. OK, so it's registered to an Izzy Faulkner with two z's. Got it... Yeah, see you on the sidelines." Mr. Castle looked straight at me. "I'm guessin' you're Izzy Faulkner with two z's?"

  "Yes, sir."

  He nodded approvingly. "Nice car." Then turned to the boys. "You all behave yourselves." He dropped the Jeep into gear and continued slowly down the aisle.

  During the course of the conversation, the boys had moved away from my car toward the security Jeep. I motioned for Cathy to go around to the passenger's side and we both slipped in unnoticed. The boys jerked around when they heard the doors close.

  "Where ya think you're going?" Derrick crooned as the boys filed down either side of my car.

  Cathy was trembling.

  "Don't be afraid," I whispered, "we'll be fine."

  She nodded without speaking. When I turned away from her, Derrick was staring down at me, arms folded across his chest.

  "So, here we are. I'm Izzy and you already know Cathy, right?" The casual introduction seemed to humor him.

  "That there is Andy," he said, pointing to the redhead on Cathy's side of the car—I recognized him from Art. "That's Joe, and this here is my main man, Matt," the huge, almost mountainous boy standing next to him.

  "And you're Derrick. You do everything with the boys?" I cooed, batting my eyes wildly at him.

  He shook off a fake shiver. "You nuts? Where'd you get this?" he said motioning toward my car.

  "It was a present from my older brother, if you must know."

  The boys groaned.

  "What a waste," Derrick said, shaking his head.

  "And why's that?"

  "It's a waste to put a freak like you in such a cherry ride." He smirked and leaned back against the car behind him.

  "Oh really." I turned the key and the engine rumbled to life. It had a lope like racehorses trotting, waiting—no, begging to be let loose. I turned toward Cathy. "Buckle up." I grinned a devilish grin and gunned the engine a few times.

  "Ooooooooh," Derrick mocked. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on my windowsill, putting his face just inches from mine. "You have no idea—"

  The best part about this was I hadn't had to wait until the next school day—I let him have it. "Three-eighty-three stroker, forged internals, aluminum heads, fuel injected, makes about four hundred and fifty horsepower." The color drained from his face until it was nearly as white as mine.

  I turned the wheel slightly, mashed the throttle and dumped the clutch. The rear tires broke loose in a high-pitched squeal. Smoke billowed out of the wheel-wells as the car pirouetted right out from under Derrick's shocked face. He stumbled forward as Andy and Joe jumped back, and as the nose of the car aligned with the aisle, I lifted my foot slightly so the tires could catch and we shot forward. At the end of the row of parked cars, I spun it around and headed back. I turned to Cathy, plastered back in her seat. "Your turn."

  "See ya boys!" she screamed, frantically waving out the window as we raced past.

  I yanked it into second, and as soon as we were around the corner of the building, let off the gas. The engine popped and groaned as we decelerated. "Well?" I said looking over at Cathy.

  "Oh my God!" She pushed herself up in her seat. "That was amazing."

  "Which way?" I asked figuring we'd better beat it in case the boys decided to follow.

  "Down to the second light and turn right."

  I veered around a pickup backing out of a parking spot and headed for the exit. And just like that, Cathy and I were friends. The whole ride to her house, she couldn't stop talking about how amazing it was as if she'd never had any fun. She directed me to a small historic house where she hopped out.

  "See you at school," she shouted, running up the walk to the door.

  "See you!" I shouted back.

  The door opened and I saw a familiar face usher her inside. It was Mrs. Hall from the front office. She must be Cathy's mother.