The Truth Is.

Chapter 6.

ACE

The engine sputtered and huffed, blowing a round of smoke into my face. The burn sizzled on my skin, as I itches it away.

        "Fuck this!" I wiped my greasy hands with a rag, and slung it onto the hood with a slap.

        News about the locker got around school quick. Don nearly jumped me at lunch and demanded I come to the barn once school let out. I tried driving this hunk of shit over, but the engine gave-out halfway. I had to call Red Rover, the only fucker around with a tow truck and decent prices.

        The price? I owed this fucker a favor. He could call me anytime, anywhere and I'd be forced to do whatever he asked. That's how Scants were, we didn't have money so we traded with what we had: ourselves.

        Don was no where to be found. My best guess was that Chica and him were still making out in his "office." His office consisted of a decent sized tool shed with a shabby desk and three chairs.

        Chica wasn't his girlfriend or nothing, that was just how she bargained. Everyone did what they could to make money and nobody judged. We all did things we shouldn't.

         Two-pick, Clove and Talon all huddled around Red Rover's newest project: A 1989 Dodge Ram. Everyone knew Red Rover had a thing for cars, especially the broken ones. This truck wasn't any different. Doors were missing from the front, as well as one of the back wheels. The other tires were popped. I hadn't bothered looking close, but it didn't have an engine.

        It looked like the type of truck a Magnate would own, until he crashed it and Daddy bought em' a new one.

        Red Rover was from somewhere in Europe. His hair was like the Dawsons, wild from the moment he left the womb. Only his accent had more polish to it. He was a heart breaker with the Magnate girls. They fell for his blue eyes, played happy couple for a few weeks, until they realize he only loved machines with engines. Then he left em' and went in search of a new toy.

        I never understood why Scants fucked around with Magnate girls. The damn bitches were too fragile, Hell, I wasn't into girls in general. Scant girls were too broken, and Magnates were too perfect.

        "Ey Ace, need help Amico?'

        I glared at Red Rover. "Fuck off."

        He raised his hands innocently. "Ey, we're all friends here."

        The neon purple headband over his wrinkled forehead had my teeth grating. I slammed the hood. A pair of angry brown eyes glared at me from the driver's seat

        "Diana, what the hell are you doing in my truck?!" I demanded, neck taut in anger.

        She kicked her dusty converses onto the door, and squeaked it open. "I needed to talk to you."

        "Doesn't everybody?" I groaned.

        "It'll be quick."

        I rolled my eyes. "If this is about this morning, I'm not talking about it." I reopened the hood, pretending to fiddle with the spark plugs.

        "it's not, I need help."

        I glanced up from the greasy engine. Her face was set in a dead serious line, eyebrows pointed. I clicked my teeth and scratched at the faded coca cola shirt clinging to my back. "What do you want?"

        She chewed her lip. Short clipped fingernails tapped at the rusted metal of my truck. "I need you to spot me some cash."

        "Diana," I sighed, rubbing at the hard lines on my face. "Do you even know what you're asking for?"