If Only She'd Loved Him

Chapter 49

Saturday 12:15 pm

Sean checked his speedometer, five miles over, good. He'd read somewhere that cops couldn't pick you up until you were doing more than six miles over the speed limit. As he drove his old car, he felt better. Maybe he could talk to his Physics T.A., John Springer. Get him to intercede on his behalf. He'd heard a story that his T.A. had once spiked his professor's regular cola with Red Bull. Kept the guy up for a whole night. Someone like that would help him out, wouldn't he? He smiled to himself as he drove. Maybe he could even take a makeup exam. Or maybe not, he reconsidered. He didn't feel like studying anymore. Screw Physics, he needed a break. Last night had really shook him up. His throat still burned. As he drove, he imagined he could feel Paul twisting his collar up around his neck. He found himself stretching higher and higher to get away. The song on the radio brought him back to earth. It was all about lost love. That's what should happen to love too, he thought; it should stay lost. Just look at what it had done to Erik. He'd been his best friend, and then he had met some blonde chippy who'd ended up smashing his heart. Not to mention trashing his friendship. He hadn't even said goodbye. A week after the breakup, Sean had come back from class to a half empty room. Erik had just taken off, disconnected his cell number, and disappeared. That's what love gets you—nothing. Screw it.

Clicking off the radio, his eyes flicked down to his gas gauge. Crud! Where was he going to get gas in the middle of nowhere? A quarter of a tank. That should get him to the lake, but it wouldn't get him back. He scanned the road as he drove, finally seeing a turnoff with a sign that said Cheap Gas Here! Pulling off the interstate, he hit the access road flying. Brakes squealing, he took the curve hard, tilting as the straight lines of the car refused to conform to the curve in the road. He was sweating by the time he reached the straightaway. That old gas station had better have cold drinks after all he had just gone through. Ignoring the fact that only the second pump said full service, he pulled up to the first pump and laid hard on his horn.

"Hold your water, I'm coming," the teenager muttered to himself as he walked up to Sean's car. "Dude, this pump is self-serve," he said.

"Dude," Sean mocked, "just do what you're overpaid for and fill it up."

The kid frowned, but his uncle had chewed him out for low sales lately, and he needed this job. He began to fill up Sean's tank, noticing a college decal on the back window. Sean got out.

"I'm thirsty. Got anything to drink?"

The kid jerked his thumb. "Pop machine's back there."

Pop, what was pop? It was soda, not a small explosion. Stupid kid, Sean grimaced, and headed to the machine. The coke machine was ancient. It gave him a green glass bottle for his fifty cents, but no way to open it. Sean looked backwards. The kid was laughing at him.

"Opener's at the top, college boy," he sniggered.

Sean thought about telling him off, but the teenager's shirt shifted, and Sean could see he was cut like a side of beef.  He decided to let the laughter slide. Handing the kid a twenty, he began to roll up his window.

"Dude, don't you want your change?"

Sean considered, "How much is it?"

"You've got a buck thirty coming back."

"Keep it," Sean waved grandly. "Buy your girlfriend something nicer than a pack of cigarettes." Proud of that comment, Sean drove off.

"Least I've got one," the kid muttered as Sean's tail lights disappeared. College punks were all the same, jerks. Just like that weirdo the other night who was worried about his girlfriend in the back of his car. Who did he think he was kidding? Only way that sweaty loser had a girlfriend in his car was if she was in the trunk. The teenager looked at the dollar and change in his hand and clenched his fist, but a buck was a buck. Besides, Sean had left him a present, too bad he didn't know it...yet. Pocketing his wire cutters, he tossed the gas cap up in the air. It would cost Sean a few bucks to replace and piss him off. That made it priceless.

Oughta learn to pump your own gas, dude.