Girls Don't Know Jack

Crash and Burn

♫ Cruel Summer - Taylor Swift

The neon blue sign of Burger Shack comes into view as Jack pulls in, turning the wheel to head into the illuminated drive-through line.

"Wait—no. Let's go in," I demand, straightening in my seat to get a better look.

"Uh—no way," Jack states firmly. "I'm not going back in there with you."

Disappointed—and a bit offended, I sulk. My back slumps into the vinyl passenger seat which offers a small creak as I pout. "But, my redemption."

He ignores me, pulling in behind the black SUV taking their order in front of us. In a huff, I look out the window towards the Burger Shack back parking lot.

A raccoon rummages through their large green dumpster, scurrying off with some leftover greasy fried food, when my eyes lock onto something. Leaning in a heap against the trash is a glimmer of familiar banana yellow.

"Hey!" I say sitting up, tapping the glass window with my finger nail. "That's my bike! They put it in the trash."

Whipping their head towards me in unison, my friends and Jack take in the scene.

Hot anger bubbles inside of me as I stare off at my long lost bike. "Those rat bastards," I seethe. "First they kick me outta their establishment and now this? They have it out for me!"

Without another thought, my hand connects with the smooth door handle and I'm flinging it open, feet planting onto asphalt before charging towards my mustard colored bike tossed to the side like hot garbage.

The smell hits my nose—pungent and foul, I shake my head. Locked onto my target, I wade through the black plastic sacks. Oozing with mysterious sludge as my body makes contact with them, I shove a few bags of trash to the side, sifting through in a rage to reach my bike.

The sound of car doors slamming behind me fill the night's air.

"What are you doing?" Jack Moody shouts at me. His long body stomping towards me underneath the dim streetlamp lighting up the back parking lot.

"I'm getting my bike back, what does it look like?" I state the obvious in a huff.

And finally, I reach my prize. Brimming with pride over my accomplishment, I grasp on to the handlebars, pulling it out from beneath steamy hot rubble.

"Molly," Jade states so sternly she bursts my bubble. "Get back in the car."

"Not without my bike," I insist. I refuse to leave here without it! Burger Shack won't get away with this—they can't rob me of my pride and my bike.

Flinging one leg over to mount the banana seat, I kick off the ground with my sludge covered tennis shoes as I shout once more into the air, "Fuck Burger Shack!"

But, I miscalculate my abilities. My legs tired from dancing and perhaps a bit unsteady from the alcohol, the bike wobbles beneath me. The handlebars slip out of my clammy grasp and my body goes crashing to the ground; bike clattering to a stop on top of me.

My chin collides with the rough asphalt sending my teeth chattering in an eruption of pain.

With a groan, I roll over onto my back, tossing the garbage bike to the side.

Staring up at the night's sky—only the moon visible from the bright lights of Burger Shack. It's hard not to begin rethinking the entirety of the last few hours.

"Oh my god—Molly!" Naila shouts before poking her mop of curly brown hair above my face.

"I'm fine," I grumble, having mostly only scraped my chin and bruised my ego.

"No—Molly!" she shouts once more.

Her urgency causes me to sit up, emitting another groan as my eyes meet Jack's, who glances down before quickly looking up to the dark sky.

"Molly, your top," Naila squeaks with wide eyes.

Slowly, I look down, taking in the view in horror. My black tube top had fallen down in the crash, my pale freckled boobs on full display for all of the Burger Shack parking lot to see.

Jack quickly turns his back to me, as I tug the shirt back up in a flash jumping up to my feet. Hot embarrassment burns at my cheeks.

I've dreamed of the day a Sex-God of a boy would see me in my bare body more times than I care to admit, but I never imagined it quite like this—in my new least favorite establishment on planet Earth.

"Oh, fuck this place!" I shout loudly into the air, throwing my scrawny bare arms up towards the sky. My foot collides with my bike as I rage. "Burger Shack you ruined my life!"

I continue to kick my bike a few more times, stomping it into the pavement as my friends stare back in shock.

"Molly, get in the car," Jade finally hisses. "Burger Shack didn't do anything to you."

"Yeah, Molly," Naila adds sheepishly. "It's kind of just...you?"

My mouth gapes open as I take a step back from my bike. "No—this is all their fault," I argue pointing a finger towards the establishment, adamant on my continued grudge against the burger joint.

They'll never have my business again!

A loud horn sounds, and I realize Jack never moved his car. He's holding up the drive-through as onlookers stare back at us.

"And fuck you too!" I shout back, flipping the honker the bird.

A strong hand grips onto my bare elbow. Jack tugs on my arm, dragging me across the parking lot back towards his car.

"My bike!" I shout trying to escape his grasp to retrieve it.

But he only presses me harder. Jack squeezes my biceps, one in each hand as his face comes closely into mine, his breath hot against my cheeks. Dark eyes squint back at me, face tense and full of hot anger.

"Get in the damn car," he spits, nose pressed to mine.

And, I cower at the tone of his voice.

He drops his hands from me, allowing me to sulk back into the small car, defeated and bruised. I rub my scraped-up chin and watch as he stomps over towards my bike, picking it up before heading back towards us.

Another round of honks ensue, and Jack waves them off. His face twisted into an angry scowl as he stuffs my bike into his trunk, slamming it shut with a thwack.

In a huff, he flings open the driver's side door, collapsing into the seat as my friend's quietly click their seat belts back on. The boy peels out of the drive-through line, tires squealing as I understand today was not the day I redeem myself at the Burger Shack.

His anger sits heavy in the small car, and I eye my friends awkwardly sinking deeper into the gray vinyl as we ride in an uncomfortably dead silence the remainder of the way.

Because, finally, I've taken the cue—it's time for me to clam it.