The Rocky Road Pact

Chapter 14: Round and Round

Friday night in my town there was only one place to be: Town.

Everyone went to Town on Friday night, which was really only one street that looped around the back of the stores, so you drove around all night in an endless loop. 

Town had strict rules. 

There were only three acceptable places you could be: In a car with your friends, driving around the loop all night, or sitting along long, cold stone fence in front of St. John's Anglican Church. See or be seen.

Foolish girls defied their mothers and left warm jackets at home, hugging themselves against the bitter wind that rose off the ocean as they navigated the sidewalks in frilly blouses and heels. Guys in leather jackets and ripped jeans hooted from cars, sometimes hanging out the windows while Motley Crue or Poison blared.

A good night meant spotting your crush and finding some way to get together, usually  by jumping into a car or out of one. Girl essentials for the evening included: white t-shirt and acid wash denim suspenders (with one strap undone and the pants rolled up), a heavy spritz of Love's Baby soft perfume, lashings of neon eyeshadow and strawberry flavoured lip gloss, a rad mix tape, buckets of mediocre coffee from Tom's coffee shop and a sack full of cheeseburgers from the local burger joint. 

Some nights were so fun , you laughed until your stomach hurt. Those were the nights you never wanted to end. Some ended in fights; blood on the sidewalk, scuffed and ripped clothes and pulled hair. God forbid you had a crush on somebody that was already attached — that's when the fur would fly. The guys' fights were serious and scary, all punched noses and flying fists. The girl fights were equally vicious, more or less the same as the boys but with hair pulling.

Whether a good night or a bad one, Town was the place to be on the weekend in a one-horse, rough and tumble coal mining town. 

On this particular Friday night, Town was the last place I wanted to go. 

"Cassie, phone." Mom's voice had an edge to it. She still hadn't taken off her suit from work, the shoulder pads so wide, I was surprised she could fit through the doorway. "Come on, don't take all day," she grumbled as I got up reluctantly from the couch.

"Jeez, Ma. Take a chill pill," Cassie said and took the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, you goin' to Town?" 

It was my cousin Sam. "Not tonight, I'm beat. This job is taking it out of me." She stifled a yawn. "Why don't you come over here and we'll rent a movie. Or we can watch Friday Night Videos. We can order pizza!"

"No way, Grannie! Mitch and Chickie are going, and so are we. Victoria got her mom's car and River's going, so be ready by 9." She hung up.

River was always a laugh but I couldn't stand Victoria. Cheap and small-minded, Vicki was a pain in the ass. But she was the only one of our group with her own car. I could borrow mom or dad's sometimes, but it was a huge hassle. They were so afraid I going to run it into a ditch or a brick wall, it was barely worth asking, even though I'd had my license for over a year now with no incidents.

Resigned to my fate, I  went upstairs to shower and get ready. There was another reason I was avoiding Town. Rumour had it that Brandon was back for the weekend. I might see him, and I wasn't ready yet. My mind was a jumble; torn between wanting to see him desperately, and wanting to hide out until I was confident and ready.

Hours later in the back seat of the car, I watched spatters of rain hit the window, blurring the outlines of people walking up and down Commercial street, and the guys on the fence. 

"Come on, come on!" Vickie tapped the gas gauge. "Go up, damn you!" I exchanged a look with Sam in the back seat, and caught a snide look from River in the front. "Vicki, what's your damage?"

"Looks like I won't have enough gas to get to  my Junior Achievers' meeting in Sydney tomorrow." Vicki sighed, looking to us hopefully, her owlish glasses glinting in the street lights. 

Each of us groaned; we'd heard this performance before. "Do you want gas money, Vicki? Because if you want gas money, just say you want gas money!" River's voice was tight with annoyance.

"Oh no, of course not," Vicki said. Of the four of us, she had the most money. Her father was a dentist and her mother was a lawyer. She had a weekly allowance of about fifty bucks, meanwhile, Sam had a single mother and three siblings and they were all on welfare, and River worked her ass off at two jobs for spending money and to keep her little brother in clothes and food.

Grudgingly, we all fished in our pockets for a dollar or two. "Here," we said, thrusting it at the driver. "Well, if you insist," Vicki said gleefully, stuffing the money into her jeans pocket. 

"There goes supper," Sam muttered under her breath. River turned around from the front seat. "Don't worry about it. I got you," she said, glaring at Vicki. "Everyone gets cheeseburgers tonight."

My cousin Sam was always broke, but it wasn't her fault. Her dad skipped out on the family years ago and her mother barely made ends meet between her government cheque and picking up the odd babysitting gigs in the neighbourhood. Still, it didn't seem to get her down much; she just couldn't go on school trips, or do any of the extra things we got to do. I felt bad for her, but then again, her marks were at the top of the class. She always wanted to be a doctor, and I felt like she had the drive and determination to do it. 

"Play it again, Vicki," I said as the song ended. Chris Izaak's Wicked Game was my favourite song that summer. I couldn't get enough of it, the haunting melody and lyrics completely expressed how I was feeling about all of my shattered dreams of love and how Brandon had totally abandoned me.

What a wicked game you play
To make me feel this way
What a wicked thing to do
Make me dream of you

What a wicked thing to say
You never felt this way

The words pierced right through my soul because they were so true. 

"Oh for the love of fuck, don't play that sad bastard song again," River said, snapping me out of my sadness with a click of the cassette player.

"Yeah, I agree. Play somethin' rockin!" Sam chimed in.

"Hey!" I was outraged when they popped my mix tape out and threw one of River's in.

"Nuh uh, that's enough Cassie. Get your ass off the pity pot and move on!" River said, bopping when her tape started up. It was this new stuff they called "rap." I had to admit, it was pretty good. First up was a smooth and slinky song, I'm That Type of Guy, by LL Cool J, followed by an insanely catchy It Takes Two by Rob Base. Fight the Power by someone called Public Enemy switched my mood entirely, made me want to jump out of the car and kick over a trash can. I had to admit, my friends were right. I was being a sad bastard.

It was stupid of me to be stuck thinking about Brandon. He was gone and I was moving on. Sort of.

"Hey, isn't that Brandon?" Sam sat up and pointed to the sidewalk. The words nearly stopped my heart. 

Joy leapt up in me when I recognized his lanky walk. Then quickly soured when I looked down and say he was holding hands with a girl. And then I saw red.