MALLORY
Derek had thick skin. That was obvious by how controlled he always was, calm when I pulled up outside his house and he walked out onto the porch, hands on his hips, staring me down like he could coax a confession out of me.
I looked at his car and the flat tire. “That sucks,” I said. “Patch the tires with the plug. Drive the car to the shop. That’ll save you money on towing.”
“Aren’t you savvy?” He sauntered down the steps, his eyes trained on me the whole time.
I shrugged. “You have to be when you learn how to take care of things.”
Whether or not he suspected that I was responsible for the flat tire, he didn’t say a word. But the way he looked at me changed. A little amused, a little curious, a little suspicious. I liked it.
He’d said the night before that he was passing through. Lies, I could tell. When you passed through town, you got a motel. You didn’t rent a place monthly. But I didn’t question him, didn’t want to nag, but still didn’t know what exactly he did for a living or why he was in Burnville.
He’d called me, that was all that mattered.
So I took him to the auto store to get the temporary fix for the flat tire.
I brought him back to his house and watched him fix it, proud of my work that let me spend more time with him.
I was hoping we could do lunch together, but I knew, of course, that he wasn’t a lunch kind of guy.
“Bring me a rag from under the kitchen sink,” Derek ordered, his hands dirty, his shirt saturated with sweat. He somehow looked even sexier like this.
I ran inside the house for the rag, but before I walked out, I took off my jean vest and threw it on the couch. I left it there on purpose so I could come back for it some other time.
When Derek was done with the tire, he finally looked at me. “You have a hundred bucks on you?”
“What?” I frowned, not understanding.
“I can’t find my debit card, and I don’t have the time to go to the bank. You have a hundred? I’ll give it back to you.”
That was a lot of money, but if he asked Al or Vic, they’d lend it without thinking. I had to keep up.
“Sure,” I said and rummaged in my purse, collecting the twenties and tens. I had a feeling he wouldn’t give it back, but maybe I could swipe some from Al or Vic.
“I’m heading to the auto garage,” he said, pocketing the bills. “Thanks for the ride.”
Dismissed. Again.
I fumed, but that was all right. I had his number.
Al and Vic were going to the fair that very night and told me to come with them. Of course they would. They wanted to know more about what I’d been doing at Derek’s.
High ponytails, crop tops, jean miniskirts, and high-platform sneakers.
Like corny twins from a Spice Girls fan club.
I could never keep up in appearance, no matter how hard I tried.
I worked for my money. But I needed to get out of this town.
I didn’t know where, didn’t know how, but maybe—just maybe—I could use Derek to do that.
That afternoon at the fair was the usual boring entertainment. Big towns and cities had malls. We didn’t. The fair was the biggest event of the year, besides a Four-Wheel Jamboree.
Families came for the food, potato pancakes, and hoagies that they swore were the best in the world, though it was the same old stuff you could find in any diner and eating hole in the Pennsylvania Dutch Country.
Kids came for the deep-fried ice cream and 4-H donkeys.
Those with money came to the Expo Hall for steam mops and hot tubs.
Younger adults came for the concert at the grandstand, previously tailgating or chugging booze from souvenir fair cups because Burnville’s was a dry fair.
I liked the rides, the bigger ones. I liked the unfamiliar faces that didn’t know who I was and what kind of family I came from.
Almost everyone who had graduated with us was here daily. What else was there to do in the summer?
Sammy from my high school and her cohort were there and ran into us. Laughing, chatting. “Oh my god, that guy!” she suddenly screeched.
“What guy?” Al asked.
“The new guy in town, Derek? Did you hear the latest? Shantsy hooked up with him.”
Never mind Al’s face, which went gray despite all the makeup. I was boiling. I wasn’t stupid. Of course Derek had hit on other girls. I just didn’t know that he’d be so quick.
“Anything goes these days,” Al said dismissively. “Birdie might’ve beaten her to it.”
She glanced at me, and so did Sammy, Sammy’s eyes widening at me. “Are you for real?”
Al and Vic could eat someone alive. But mostly, they liked to play with their food. Shortly, something else was whispered, something I didn’t catch, and the whole gang of girls burst out laughing, tapping each other, glancing at me.
My face caught on fire. At this point, I wasn’t interested in anything but dunking Al’s face into the boiling oil at the french fries stand.
She started typing something frantically on her phone. I had a guess to who, but I kept a straight face as we bought popcorn, then birch beer, then popped into the 4-H barn where no one could see us chug vodka out of the little party bottles that everyone snuck into the fair.
I knew a way to get back at them. Quietly.
Unseen. Like the time I mixed Ajax powder into Al and Vic’s little cocaine stash.
I’d dropped open safety pins into their purses.
I’d squeezed superglue into their hair when they weren’t looking.
There were plenty of things I’d done, but all of them were innocent compared to what I had to deal with from them. Friends, my ass.
This time, it wouldn’t be so innocent.
We all went to the Drop Tower, my favorite ride. Al knew it. So did Vic. So they were surprised when I said I had a headache, and I’d wait and hold their purses. While I did, mingling among the crowd, I took a safety pin from my purse, found condoms in Al’s purse, and poked holes in them.
Payback is a bitch.