The Rocky Road Pact

Chapter 30: Wild Side

Miles of road ahead of me, I knew where I was going but I still felt lost. This was a mistake.

I knew it in my gut. 

I'm a petty thug, not a psycho. My own words rang in my ears. My aunt Bea knew that — she's the only one in my family who knew me at all. But did she know that? I didn't care what anyone thought of me back in Coldspring; most of them saw my long hair and ripped clothes and thought the worst. Like I was some kind of career criminal, instead of a trust fund kid. I wondered if their opinion of me would change if they knew I was coming into my trust fund in the fall. As soon as I turned 18, I'd receive more money than anyone in the town could ever make in several lifetimes. 

Correction: I didn't care what anyone thought about me except Cassie.

What lies were they telling her about me? That I was some animal who nearly killed a kid?

I'll admit it, I knocked him out. Cold. Bastard deserved it. But I didn't bust up his head or his arm with a baseball bat. That, I'd remember.

I knew it was going to be a bad night when Moose pulled into Bobby's driveway.

"Not this guy," I groaned. We were supposed to be hitting the town, looking for food, not trouble. 

"Bobby's great," Moose said, scratching his ear. He had a cheek full of painful-looking acne I hoped would clear up soon. Moose was a giant with a heart of gold who couldn't seem to find a girlfriend. Most girls wouldn't give him a chance, but he was a solid guy if anyone would take the time to talk to him. So he failed a few grades, so what? With all of the tutoring they did all summer, they were all going to graduate now; Moose would be celebrating his 20th birthday finally out of high school in the fall, and going to take a welding course at the community college. Moose was a good guy, but like most, he didn't see the dark in people.

The man himself sauntered out to the car, jumping in the back seat with Jonesy Malone. "Good evening, girls" he said, jumping in the back seat, with his usual swagger. As if 'girls' was an insult. I knew plenty of girls who were worth a 100 of him. I rolled my eyes and fought to repress the urge to punch him in his dumb face.

The rest of the evening was a typical Friday night. We got a sack of cheeseburgers and shot the drag around town, driving around and around the small town's centre, Bobby whistling at girls on the sidewalk who sneered at him and gave him the finger. 

"Man, cut the shit. You're making us all look like douchebags," I said, tired of his antics already and it was only 9:30. "In fact, Moose drop me home. I got shit to do." 

"Like Cassie," Bobbie snickered in the back seat.

"What are you, ten years old? Cassie's my friend," I said, ignoring the side eye from Moose, who knew better. He was the only one who knew how I really felt.

"Yeah, your buddy. We all know what kind," he said, and I lunged over the seat to whale on him, only landing a few blows. He cowered, covering his head and laughing while I tried to punch the shit out of him. "Shut your hole, or you'll be sorry," I sneered while he laughed, a grating sound like nails on a chalk board. 

"Dude, chill," Moose said. "Do you really want to go home? The night is young, and so are we!" For emphasis, he rolled down the window and howled at a couple of girls walking down the sidewalk. 

I should have gone home. I wanted to go home. Why didn't I go home?

I should have gone straight to Cassie's, and told her how I felt. That we should forget the dumb pact and just date, like regular people. I wanted to spend more time with her, get to know her better. I only kissed her a few times, but it was fire and I wanted more. I felt my pulse flutter in my throat every time I thought about the few times we'd been close; on the dance floor, kissing at the circus, holding hands at the roller rink. It was only a few times, but they were magic; like fireworks, something spectacular that lasted only minutes then faded away.