Burnouts

The Beginning of Something Unwritten

Scene 1: Danny's Van

Danny Cole

I narrow my eyes at the girl standing on the curb and holding her thumb out toward the road.

I pull over toward her and glare in shock.

"Hey!" Kat says in happy relief once she opens the passenger side door.

"You're hitchhiking in New York? What're you crazy?"

"Maybe...but I know you're more likely to be killed by the hitchhiker in these situations, so now who's crazy?"

"Still you, I wouldn't have picked up just anyone."

"No, but I'm special," she smiles at me.

I smirk and shake my head, "where do you want me to drop you off at?"

"The discount mart," Kat sighs.

"Who did you piss off enough to get the morning shift?"

"No one. I picked up an extra shift since my entire last paycheck went toward rent. I'm so broke right now."

"Well...you can call me if you need anything. A little change, a ride, some food...just make sure you call earlier than this, or we'll both be late."

"Aw, am I making the baby late to school?" She teases.

"You are, actually, but it's fine since I'm not picking up Leo."

"Where is he?"

"Laying in a king-sized bed with some rich man's daughter."

"Jealous?" She says slyly.

"Of the bed? Yes."

"You know what I mean."

"I'm not jealous," I say truthfully. "I prefer girls who know the difference between gunshots and fireworks."

"Oddly specific, but okay."

"I just can't make a connection with someone who doesn't understand me or how I grew up. You've got to live it. Like you do...hitchhiking to make grocery money."

Kat laughs, "so, I'm your type."

"Shut up," I laugh with her. "I described almost every girl in each borough."

"But mainly me," she nods, "it's okay. I won't tell anyone that you have a crush."

I scoff, "you have a crush on me."

"What?" Kat pretends to be shocked as if it isn't obvious.

"I'm not dumb. I know when you're flirting with me or trying to seduce me."

She laughs, "if any of that were true, why would you still hang out with me?"

I let moments of silence pass without an answer.

"...shut up." She smirks in contentment before leaning forward to change the radio station, jumping back and forth between static, morning shows, and music. "Stop— you're not going to find any Joan Jett or Bikini Kill or...Whitney Houston or whatever the hell you listen-"

She stops at a station playing Biggie Smalls.

You just wanted to show me up.

I see her smiling out of the corner of my eye, and I sigh in preparation for her snide comments.

"It's hot that you're a riot girl," she says in amusement.

"You get on my nerves," I hold back my laugh.