Chapter 9
A few minutes later, I was standing outside the car along with Jake, Trey, and the stranger, who was throwing a massive hissy-fit. Two policeman – one about my parent's age, and one not much older than me – were trying to sort through the whole ugly mess.
Around us, the crowd hadn't moved. I could see why.
The big guy was yelling, "Arrest this motherfucker, right now!"
"Sir," the older policeman said in a bored tone, "I'll tell you again. Let's keep it clean, alright?"
"And I'll tellyouagain," the stranger said. "Arrest him now, or you'll be hearing from my lawyer." The stranger turned to Jake. "Andyou'llbe hearing from my lawyer too. Got it?"
"Yeah?" Jake said with a look of polite interest. "What does she look like?"
"Who?" the guy said.
"Your lawyer."
"It's not a 'she'," the guy said. "It's a 'he.'"
"Oh," Jake said. "Then forget it."
"God, you are such a pig," I said.
"No law against that," Jake said. He turned to the younger of the two cops. "Is there?"
"No sir," the policeman said.
"Sir?" I said under my breath.
The officer turned to face me. "What's that?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Nothing."
When the older officer went to retrieve something from the police car, the younger officer lowered his voice and said, "I know I shouldn’t ask, but can I get your autograph?"
"You arrest him," the stranger said, "and then we'll talk. Maybe get you some good seats too."
"Sir," the officer said, "I wasn't talking to you."
I looked around. Then who was he talking to?
"Got a pen?" Jake asked.
Grinning, the officer pulled out a pen and small notepad. He thrust it in Jake's direction. "Can you make it out to Seth?"
"You got it," Jake said.
As I watched, Jake scribbled something onto the officer's notepad and handed it back.
"This is such bullshit," the stranger said. He pointed back toward his own vehicle. "Look at my car. It's a fuckin' mess."
I turned to look. Itwasa mess. The front grill was smashed in, and the gold hood ornament was dangling sideways from the crumpled hood. While we'd been talking, Trey had sidled away from Jake and was now circling the stranger's vehicle. Trey stopped near the back of the car and studied the license plate. He grinned.
I returned my gaze to the stranger. His car wasn't the only thing that was a mess. The guy looked like he'd been put through the ringer, literally. His shirt was ripped, his hair was soggy, and his face was swollen and smeared with streaks of blood.
I glanced over at Jake. His bloody shirt looked nearly shredded too, but his face was surprisingly unscathed. It seemed odd, considering he'd taken at least one punch to the face, and probably more. I squinted for a better look. Other than a scrape across his cheek, he looked the same as always.
My gaze traveled from his full lips to his dark eyes. Catching my eye, he gave me a wink. My stomach fluttered, and I felt myself swallow. I gave my head a quick shake. I wasn't a teenager anymore, so there was no need to act like one.
