Meadow

four

TWENTY-FOUR MINUTES LATER

SPEEDING DOWN A DUSTY ROAD

I have one more class today, but I can afford to miss it. I'm really in no state to sit in a school desk right now, not with Ruben messing with my head. I drive angrily, stepping on the pedal like it's Ruben's smug, entitled face. Thinking about him infuriates me. He thinks he can just screw with me anytime he wants just because of who he thinks he is. As if. Ruben is to me what I am to everybody else on this planet: nobody. 

Thinning trees whir by quickly, surrounding me in a gray-green blur. I have yet to choose a destination. It's too early to go back home. My grandmother will get all worried like she does--What are you doing home so early, Lane? What happened this time, Lane? She only asks me questions like these because she feels like she's supposed to. It's not like I answer. 

I know what I need right now--some wine and gummy bears. My wheels kick up dirt as I flip a U-turn, not bothering to check my mirrors or look over my shoulder on this ever-abandoned road. 

In no time, I'm rolling up to Buster's. I happen to know Buster himself, a forty-something guy looking to keep his little convenience store standing. Lucky for him, underage drinkers like me are more than happy to keep him in business. 

The neon letters in the front blink weakly in the pale sunlight, only visible because of the velvet shadows cast upon the shop by the thicket of surrounding trees. There's only one other car in the dirt lot that I don't recognize. I get out of my own and leave the doors unlocked. This won't take long. 

A small bell chimes upon my entrance. Buster's not working today. Neither is Pablo or Noreen. They all know me, and we have something of an unspoken agreement. Behind the counter today is a young guy I've never seen before. He must be new. 

I suppose I'll have to let him in on the agreement. 

I unzip my jacket just a little, revealing but not too revealing, and grab my gummy bears. Next, I pluck a nondescript bottle of pinkish wine off of the shelf and stride up to the counter confidently. New Guy has his head down, and as I get close enough to lean over the edge of the counter, I see that he's looking at a Sports Illustrated magazine. 

I place my purchases in front of him. He looks at the candy, not me, and scans the bag. He grabs the bottle of wine by the neck and holds it up, finally looking up at me. His eyes flick down at my chest for a fraction of a second before snapping back up to my face, not quite reaching my eyes. 

"And a park of Marlboro Lights?" I request sweetly. I pucker my lips just a little and lean farther forward. When New Guy doesn't flinch, I chew on my lip for effect. He cracks a smirk, staring at me for a long time. 

"Got an ID on ya?" he asks, his voice condescending. His mouth barely opens when he speaks. He crosses his arms and eyes me up and down.

"Are you serious?" I ask, acting completely pissed. "I've known Buster for a long time. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I think I'm the one standing between a minor and a few nights in jail."

"You only have to be 18 to buy cigarettes, genius. Give them to me."

New Guy rings up the cigarettes and places the carton on top of the gummy bears. He picks up the bottle and holds it out to me.