Page 206 of Something Rad
I open my mouth to protest, but Alice cuts me off, shoving her hand closer to my face. “Your keys, please.”
I press my lips together, blowing out a breath before pulling my keys from my pocket and dropping them in her hand.
forty-four
ROBBIE
I tap my hands on the steering wheel along to the AC/DC song playing on the radio. I’m aware of Groovy Movie in my peripheral vision as I pass by it, but I don’t turn my head.
I haven’t turned my head towards it in two months, and I’m not gonna start now.
Just as I pass the building, I’m hit with a red light at the upcoming intersection. I blow out a puff of air as I bring my car to a stop, the neon lights of the forbidden movie rental store feeling like they’re burning the back of my neck. I ignore them, reaching over and turning up the volume on the radio. When my hand pulls back from the dial, I catch sight of my fuel gauge and see I’m nearly empty.
“Shit,” I grumble, taking off as the light turns green again. I’m already late getting to Brad’s place, but I’m sure the guys won’t even notice. Billy and Michael wouldn’t have been a minute late since Brad told us his parents were out of town and that they left their liquor cabinet unlocked. I’ll take advantage of them occupying his attention for a few more minutes. I’m barely a hundred yards down the road before I’m pulling off into the nearest gas station, parking my car at the first gas pump.
I keep my music turned up as I roll my car window down and open the door, jogging the handful of steps it takes to get inside and pay the station attendant. Then, I’m back at my car, just beginning to pump my gas when loud music drowns out my own as a new car tears into the parking lot. I shake out my hands as I release the pump and zip my jacket up, the unusually cold night breeze sending a shiver through me.
The loud car stops on the other side of the pump, parallel from me, and it only takes me barely craning my head before I recognize the brown Chevy Nova.
I take a deep breath, leaning against my Camaro and crossing my arms. The music coming from the other car gets even louder as the driver-side door opens, then it becomes muffled again once it slams shut.
Jesse and I immediately make eye contact as he steps around the pump to head to pay. His spine snaps straight and he blinks hard when the recognition sinks in, but then he quickly relaxes, bobbing his head at me. “Hey, man,” he says.
I give him a nod. “Hey, Jess.”
It’s been two months.
Jesse and I never had a problem before this year. We’re on the same team. There’s no girls between us anymore. We both got the short end of the stick in some way or another from our situations. There’s no need for bad blood. We’ve handled our shit like men and have moved on. We may not be throwing slumber parties or frolicking through fields together, but we’re cool, which is all we need to be. I haven’t given him much thought or overanalyzed the way he’s treated me in quite awhile now. I haven’t felt the need.
So I’m wondering why now, as Jesse is watching me his entire way inside the gas station, his lips slowly pulling into a smirk as he does so, alarm bells are going off in my head.
I force myself to shake off the feeling, turning back to the pump to check on my gas. When I see it’s only half full, I take the opportunity to wipe down my windshield and clear out trash from inside my car, needing to distract myself all of the sudden.
I grab a couple of Pepsi cans and food wrappers from the driver’s side floor, then make my way around to the passenger side to get anything that may have made its way over there. I open the door, bending down to reach under the seat. When I don’t find anything, I start to stand back up, but then pause, something catching my eye in the light.
I lean forward, squinting at the seat headrest and hoping that my mind was just playing tricks on me. But unfortunately, I’m just not that lucky, and it was not. I reach forward, plucking the distinctly long and red strand of hair from the headrest. I stand up straight, twirling the hair between my thumb and forefinger, watching as the gas station canopy lights above me make the single strand shift from orange to red to auburn, like the burning flame of a tiny match between my fingers.
I lean against my car to steady myself and shake my head, gritting my teeth together, my breath fogging in front of me from the cold air.
Even when she’s not here, even when I’ve finally gotten to a place where I’m fine to not be thinking about her every minute of every day, even now when I’m able to turn the other way with the energy of hersoclose, just across the road, she still finds a way to make herself known. To make herself present. No matter how much I try to pretend like Cooper never happened, that she never happenedtome, there’s no use. She’s everywhere. She’s left her mark on everything. In the same way this hair of hers has lived in my car for months now, not consciously known but still there, she’s left pieces of herself within me as well. And I’m tired of it. I’m tired of not being able to escape her. How did a girl that used to keep herself so invisible somehow become the only thing I can manage to see?
“Robbie?”
My head snaps up at the harsh voice, breaking me out of my trance, the strand of hair slipping from my fingers. I let it fall, swallowing against the dryness in my throat as my eyes find Jesse again. He’s standing right in front of me with a case of beer in each of his hands.
It’s funny. Bay View is small. Everyone knows everyone, which means the people who work at this gas station and every other place that sells alcohol in town know we are in high school. Yet they let guys like Jesse and me buy whatever we want, no questions asked. I remember now, a few years back, the first time he and I went to go try to buy beer together. We attempted to put together these ridiculous fake IDs. They looked awful, and we spent a full Saturday making them, but we never even got carded. Every adult just shrugged and let us buy the booze. I’ve never really thought about it until now why that is, or how other kids haven’t been as lucky. Sucks for them, I guess.
“Are you good, man?” Jesse asks.
“Yeah,” I say, too quickly. “Yeah, fine. Why?”
“Well, I had to call your name three times before you answered.”
Oh.
“My bad,” I say. “Just zoned out.”
Jesse raises a brow at me. “Okay then,” he replies, his voice skeptical. “Well, I was just going to ask if you’re up to anything tonight.”
