The engine growled, jerking my body left. Then right. Left again. My head slammed against the seat with every downshift, and the tires squealed a little more with every turn. Scott said something about a homestretch and crunched on the gas. The car sounded like a freight train. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact. But Scott hit the brakes, and I opened my eyes to a sea of headlights pointed in every direction.
NAOMI AND I HUDDLED under some trees with a few other people. Most of them were girls taking puffs of cigarettes or giggling about their boyfriends. One guy told another his money was on Scott. I inhaled the smell of cow crap and car exhaust.
Scott’s Mustang sat alongside some blond girl’s red Honda. Both cars faced a flat stretch of road that bled into the darkness. The blond girl peered under Scott’s hood, pointing at various things and laughing. Scott’s gaze dropped every time she bent over to look at something.
“Why doesn’t she just lift up her skirt and flash him already?” Naomi said through her teeth. Her eyes narrowed at the girl, and her fingers twitched against her denim skirt.
“Why would she do that?”
She rolled her eyes at me and took another sharp drag of her cigarette. “You ask really dumb questions sometimes.”
I sank back into the shadows of the trees. Her hands clenched into fists every time a girl talked to him—even if it was just hi. And her eyes were different too. Always darting from one thing to the next. Hungry.
“How long will this take?” I asked.
She shrugged, flicking her cigarette into the gravel. “I’m not a psychic.”
I hugged my body, shivering in the damp air. Autumn definitely hit Washington earlier than California. A police scanner bellowed out of a car nearby. Two guys sat inside—the neon dashboard made their faces look alien.
The racer girl gave Scott a playful punch in the arm, and Naomi edged forward. When he leaned in to whisper in the girl’s ear, Naomi walked up to them, gesturing wildly. Some of the people around me chuckled and talked about a catfight.
I moved forward until I could hear what was going on.
“Maybe you should get your girlfriend a leash,” the racer girl said, shaking her head at Naomi.
Naomi lurched forward, bringing her face within inches of the other girl’s. “Maybe you should wear a skirt that covers your fat ass.”
Racer girl swung at Naomi, but Scott and a guy in a baseball cap pulled the two girls apart. Scott pressed Naomi against his car and took off his hoodie. “I told you not to do so much. Go for a walk or something, okay?” He handed his jacket to her.
Naomi’s entire body shuddered like she was cold. “You promised,” she said.
“I didn’t do anything.” He gave her a stiff hug and patted her on the back. Kind of like the hugs I gave Grandma.
“You were flirting with her.”
Scott laughed at this. “We were just talkin’.”
“I’m ready when you decide to lose the ball and chain,” the racer girl said, getting into her car and slamming the door.
Naomi spun around to say something, but Scott squeezed her face with one hand and lowered his voice. “I’m not gonna deal with this psycho-bitch shit.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, nuzzling her face into his hoodie.
He dropped his hand. “Get off the car.”
Naomi moved away and looked at me for the first time. Her eyes were like oil slick in the headlights.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my legs shaking.
She wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my shoulder. “No.”
A guy with a walkie-talkie strolled past us and stood between the two cars. Both engines revved like dueling bass lines.
Naomi’s heart pounded against my chest, and her breaths were shallow. “I’m so jacked up, Drea,” she said. “I can’t even breathe.”
The guy stuffed the radio in his belt and held his hands up like a conductor. I stroked her hair, hoping it would calm her as it did me. “What did you take?” I asked. “Do you need a doctor?”
She sniffled into my ear. “No, I…” The growl of the cars drowned her voice out.
The conductor guy dropped his hands, and both cars skidded off, leaving us to choke on the stench of burnt rubber. The crowd shoved past us, shouting and hooting like a bunch of baboons in a cage.
Naomi’s breaths quickened, and I pulled her away from the street. She squatted in the darkness, chewing on her ring fingernail. “My heart won’t stop pounding, Drea. It won’t stop.”
I sat on the grassy roadside and winced as a cold wetness seeped into my ivory skirt. “Just sit down.”
“I can’t—I can’t sit. I can’t do anything.”
I reached for her hand and pulled her toward me. “Lay your head in my lap and close your eyes.” It was the only thing I could think of. Whenever a noise would bother me as a kid, Mom would tell me to lie in her lap. She’d sing to me or stroke my hair and talk about something that made us both laugh. Usually all the practical jokes she played on Grandma when she was little.
Naomi put the hoodie in my lap and rested on top of it. I ran my fingers through her damp hair, and she clenched her jaw.
The crowd’s cheers were off in the distance now. Someone had won, but I didn’t really care who. “You know what my mom did to my grandma once?”
“What?” she asked weakly.
“Grandma would always go on these cleaning rampages. Tear the whole house apart and put it back together again. And the whole time she’d be complaining about everything. Anyway, Mom decided to record her one time. Then she put this happy organ music to it—like the kind on a merry-go-round.”
“Oh my God—I can totally hear that.”
“She made a series of these things. Even gave them titles and stuff. “Mom and the Plunger,” “Mom’s Thoughts on Hairballs.” I could feel Naomi’s chest shake with laughter. Her breathing slowed some. “Then she wrapped them up and gave them to Grandma for a birthday present, telling her it was this old blues singer she loved. Well, they had some dinner guests over—neighbors mostly. Grandma puts it on, and the first thing everyone hears is her yelling about dirty sheets.”
“Your mom is awesome. Seriously, you’re really lucky.”
“Sometimes I don’t feel that way.” I let her hair sift between my fingertips.
“Everyone wishes they had different parents, I think. But at least you know she cares about you—like when she told you to keep the windows open tonight. That was cute.” She exhaled slowly. “I can’t even remember the last time my dad bothered to ask where I was going.”
“Do you guys ever eat together or watch TV?”
“I got him to watch the first five minutes of CSI a couple months ago. Then he fell asleep. It was easier when my brother was around—I had someone to share my misery with.”
“Where’s your brother now?”
“Who knows? Probably somewhere a lot more exciting than this place.” Naomi reached up and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”
“It’s—” I was interrupted by what sounded like a herd of horses. People were running to their cars and slamming doors.
Naomi grabbed the hoodie and jumped up, her eyes darting around the street. “Shit, they must’ve heard something on the scanner. We gotta find Scott.”
Cars sped off in every direction as we jogged along the side of the road. I was sure at least one would end up hitting us. Naomi ran into the street just as a black Mustang approached us. It skidded to a stop, and she yanked the front door open.
“Hurry up!” Scott said.
I dove into the back seat, and Naomi barely had enough time to slam the door before Scott floored the gas.