The Stillburrow Crush (12 page)

I knew Aunt Kay was getting ready to spill out this precise speech—about a child needing to work for his or her future, or how this was the exact thing that made our social structure so weak: children who were pampered right up into their adulthood. Blah, blah, blah. I was even braced for the speech.

But Mom breezed in the front door, bearing her own gift and saving me.

Chigger quit sniffing my pant leg and dashed toward Mom.

But her gift didn't smell as appetizing as mine, so the dog returned to me, whining. Mom had a new winter coat in the box she carried. Aunt Kay went to relieve her of the present before pulling her into a hug. When Aunt Kay stepped back, she eyed Mom's hair critically.

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The Stillburrow Crush

by Linda Kage

"Georgia missed a spot," she said in a snobbish tone. She dabbed at Mom's perfectly groomed head of hair and said, "I see a patch of gray."

Mom laughed good-naturedly and swatted Aunt Kay's hand away. "It's supposed to make me look distinguished."

"It makes you look old, dear."

I laughed behind my hand and quickly wiped the smirk off my face when Mom glared in my direction. That's when I decided it was time for me to leave. I hugged Aunt Kay again and she thanked me for the present. She said to thank Marty too, since it seemed I was the only member of the family who had any kind of contact with him.

"I'm sure he'll make it for Thanksgiving dinner," I heard Mom saying as I escaped out the front door. Mother would make excuses for him, of course. I didn't know why. She had no reason to lie to Aunt Kay. But she had a habit of trying to make us look perfect to everyone, even to other members of the family. I wanted to tell her she didn't have to do that with Aunt Kay, but it wouldn't have made a difference. My mother would always try to hide any imperfection she possibly could.

I was glad to be outside. I hated to sit by and listen to those two women gossip. I didn't mind talking to them separately, but together it was horror. Their continuous flow of chatter could give a person a headache.

I skipped down the front steps, my thoughts returning to my own business as I walked back home. A car passed. I didn't recognize it. In a town the size of Stillburrow, everyone knew what everyone else drove and being the daughter of the only mechanic in town, I had unique knowledge of most of 110

The Stillburrow Crush

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Stillburrow's automobiles. But I was too busy thinking about Marty and his life to wonder about the new car or watch whose drive it pulled into. I was thinking I might mosey down to Getty's General Store and pester my brother for a while and make sure he had the latest edition of my paper.

I turned at the end of the front walk and followed the footpath toward the store. I'd just made it to the row of bushes that bordered the neighbor's yard when I heard the call.

"Carrie!"

I stopped, a little disoriented at hearing my name in this section of town. The call had come from across the street.

And guess who was stepping out of the new car that had come to a stop in Carter's circle drive? Yep. It was none other than the banker's son himself.

Luke looked both ways and then jogged across the empty gravel street toward me. His eyes were a shiny blue, as if the chrome of his new bumper was reflected in them. And he was grinning, his dimple pitted as deep as it could go. His dark hair was a little windblown, like he might've been driving with the windows down. The sight made me catch my breath.

Every time I looked at him, it was like seeing him for the first time. I was always struck with a fresh wave of awe.

But I managed to glance around him and peer at the Mustang. "So you finally got a new car, huh?"

It was a shocking white, waxed and shining so bright I almost had to wince to stare at it. Two black racing stripes ran up the middle of the hood and roof and back down over the trunk. It looked like he'd just driven it off a new car lot.

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There were fancy chrome spokes mounted in the wheels and the windows were tinted. It was a perfect fit for Luke Carter.

"Yeah, Dad gave me a loan at the bank." He seemed a little distracted and took my arm to pull me toward the bushes.

I could still see the car over his shoulder. "How old is it?"

"Two years." Luke glanced up and down the street to make sure no one was around. He had me tucked into a corner of the bushes so that if anyone happened by, we wouldn't be noticed.

"It runs pretty good, then?"

"Uh-huh," he said impatiently. "Did you hear anything about the poem today?"

I glanced up at him. He was as eager for news as I'd expected him to be. It took everything for me not to rub my hands together and grin. "Yes, I did," I said, and my gaze slid back to his ride. "How big's the engine?"

He muttered something and frowned. "Heck if I know. It's a car, OK?"

My mouth fell open. "It's a car? Is that all you can say about it? It's your car, Luke. Aren't you excited you just got a new car?"

"Yes." But he didn't sound excited. He sounded frustrated.

"But I already showed it off to my friends. What I wanted to talk to you about was—"

"How fast will it go?"

"Carrie." He clenched his teeth. "Did anyone say anything to you about my poem yet?"

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My eyebrows rose as if I were in shock. "So that's why you came to talk to me?" I sniffed. "I should've known that's all you'd want from me."

Luke sighed. He glanced back to his car, resigned. "I don't know how fast it'll go. I just got it, remember?"

He looked back at me like he expected me to spill my guts now. Instead, I grabbed his hand and tugged. "Then let's find out."

"What?" He sounded so stunned, you'd have thought I'd just asked him to elope with me.

"Give me a ride and I'll tell you everything I know."

He didn't like the blackmail. I could tell by the way he glanced from me to the car. But it was tempting. He wanted to know what I'd heard too badly.

"I'll even duck down out of sight until we get out of town."

He began to gnaw on his lip. "It's just a car, Carrie."

"That is not just a car. It's a Mustang, a brand-spanking new Mach 1 Mustang with a V8 engine and..." Here's where I ran out of knowledge on the car. "And a lot of freaking power.

Do you realize this may be the only time I'll ever get the chance to ride in a Mach 1?"

He looked at me sharply.

"Come on, Luke," I said, knowing I was getting closer to a ride. My fingers clamped around his. "It's just one ride."

Finally, he nodded. "OK. But you better have something good to tell me."

I grinned. "Oh, I heard plenty today. But what if it was all bad?"

He pulled up short. "No one liked it, did they?"

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This time I laughed. "Come on, Carter. My ride's waiting."

And I darted around him, taking off across the street.

"That was low," I heard him call after me. But then he started off too, racing after me.

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We were both winded by the time we made it across the road to his Mustang. He came around to the passenger side with me, making my stomach do an odd little flop. He wasn't going to open my door for me, was he? But all he did was pull out his keys and unlock it. Then he stepped back.

I brushed by him as I opened the door and climbed in.

"You actually lock your doors? In Stillburrow?"

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up," he said, and slammed the door in my face.

I laughed, but not for long. The smell of new car filled my nostrils. The car sat low, and spotless white leather covered everything. Even the console between the driver's and passenger's side was leather. I brushed my hand over the smooth material. Luke opened his door and slid in beside me.

When he started the engine, it purred. I sighed and rubbed my fingers along the dashboard. When I glanced over, Luke was eying me with a lifted eyebrow. All I could say was

"Wow," in a reverent whisper.

He shook his head and pulled out of the drive. When we entered the street, I ducked down like I'd promised to do. My face was inches from his hand while he shifted gears. I turned away, still ducking.

"You don't have to do that," he said.

But I was busy checking out all the knobs on the side of my seat.

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"I told you I would, so I'm keeping my word." I turned one knob and the seat cranked back. "What's this do?" I asked as I pushed another button. Nothing happened for a few seconds and then I yelped. "Hey, my butt's getting hot."

Luke cracked up. He was so busy laughing he almost missed a stop sign and had to slam on the brakes to avoid sliding through an intersection. The sudden stop sent me sprawling forward and I bumped my head on his glove compartment. Thank goodness he was only going about ten miles per hour.

It still hurt, though. I glared up at Luke.

"Sorry," he said, even though amusement still lit his eyes.

He glanced toward the button I'd pushed. "That's the seat warmer."

"Seat warmer?" I stared up at him. "You're kidding me."

He shook his head and didn't even try to hide his laughter this time. I narrowed my eyes at him and turned the seat warmer off. I turned my attention to the sound system. You could play a CD or plug in an MP3 player. My eyebrows rose in admiration. I found a stash of CDs in the console and began to nose through his collection of music. I pulled out one with a blond-headed guy on the cover.

"What group is this?"

When Luke checked out which CD I was holding, he gave me a strange look. "Can't you read?" When he told me the name, my eyebrows rose. I was familiar with the music because I'd heard it on the radio before.

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"Really?" I said. I flipped the cover over to the back and read the names of the songs. "I always thought he spelled it

'M&M.' You know, like the candy."

Luke snorted. "You've lived in a hole your entire life, haven't you?"

"Yes," I said, and took the CD out of the case. "Can we listen to it?"

He shrugged. "I don't care."

I looked at the stereo. "How?"

As soon as I asked the question, I bit my lip, braced for him to make fun of me again. But hey, my parents' cars only had cassette players.

Luke didn't tease, though. He pointed to a slot in the dashboard. "It's empty. Just slide it in there."

I did and waited for the music to start. When it did, I found the volume button and turned it up.

"Think it's loud enough?" he said.

"What?" I yelled back.

He grinned and so did I. When we passed the sports complex at the edge of Stillburrow, Luke nudged me. "Will you sit up already?"

I sat up, looked out the windows, staring at the fading town in the side mirror. I could feel the music reverberating through my seat. I played with the electronic buttons on the door. First I locked it and then I rolled my window down. The music rumbled out and a few cows in the pasture we were passing glanced up to watch us fly by as they munched slowly on their hay.

"Faster," I yelled, scaring the herd into running off.

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Luke crinkled his eyebrows and glanced briefly at me.

"Close the window. It's freezing out there."

But I only winked at him. "Wuss."

He mumbled something but I couldn't hear it over the music. The next thing I knew, he was rolling his window down too. I laughed.

"Come on, Carter. Let's see what this baby can do."

But he only shook his head. "I'm not getting a ticket on the day I bought it."

I snorted. "Yeah right." At his skeptical look, I said, "Your best friend's the sheriff's son. What deputy would be crazy enough to ticket you? Now step on it, boy."

Finally, he took the dare and pressed his foot down. The car shot forward, and I turned the volume of the music even louder. It felt wonderful. I was so free. The breeze whirled inside and whipped my hair around. I set my face to the open wind and hollered my war cry out the window.

"You're crazy," I heard him yell.

When I risked a look at him, I saw a full grin on his face.

His eyes were on the road, though. I checked how fast we were going.

"You're the one driving 115 miles per hour," I yelled back.

Then I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the seat. I couldn't have dreamed up a better ride than this. I was sitting in a brand new sports car, with a drop-dead gorgeous guy, and the thump of bass pulsating through my chest. And I thought, maybe I can't have Luke Carter, but I'll always have this moment.

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I don't know how long I had my eyes closed but I think I drifted off for a few seconds. I came to when Luke slowed and pulled the car into a drive lined with trees on each side. I glanced around, realizing we were by the lake. The Lake was what Stillburrow called the large man-made pond that Old Man Roper had willed to the city. He'd owned the pond and hundreds of acres of farmland around it but had no family left to inherit anything. So Stillburrow took over maintenance on the place and labeled it our city lake. And Luke had just turned into the road that led to the camping ground, which was the major make-out spot for all Stillburrow teens.

I sat up. "What're you doing?"

"I don't think anyone will be here at this time of day," Luke said. He must have seen the sudden unease in my eyes.

"Relax. I just didn't know where else to go."

I leaned over and turned the radio down. "It looks kind of creepy this time of year." All the trees were bare except for a few dead brown leaves still clinging to branches. It was much prettier in the summer when everything was green and in bloom.