Damage Read Free Page B

ticket ,” she said. Zach started to cry again. “Shut up, Zach!” Ronnie turned to him and grabbed his shoulders. “Goddamn it! Zach, please. Just stop crying.”
    I got an icy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I stopped the car and turned to look over my shoulder at her. “Please tell me the car isn’t stolen.”
    â€œTheo! Of course it’s not stolen .”
    â€œWhat is it then? Why are you freaking out?” Behind me, I could see the cop getting out of his car and walking toward us. My chest tightened. “Ronnie? Is there something I should know?”
    Zach started crying louder than ever. “Just don’t use my name,” Ronnie said. She unbuckled Zach and pulled him out of his car seat and onto her lap.
    I had started to roll down my window, and the cop was only a few feet away. “ What? Are you serious?”
    â€œOr Zach’s,” she said under her breath.
    The car was stolen. I just knew it. My hands were slick with sweat. I wiped them on my jeans and turned to watch the cop walk the last few feet to our car.
    Ronnie was cooing to Zach now. “Come here, baby. I’m sorry I yelled at you. You want a snack, honey? Raisins? Goldfish crackers?” She rummaged in the bag on the seat beside her.
    I felt sick. Sure, Ronnie had been my babysitter—but that was six years ago, when she was an eleventh-grader. I knew nothing about this girl sitting behind me. She could be anyone. A car thief. Or worse, a drug dealer. What if the trunk was full of coke or something?
    God knows my parents weren’t going to believe that I had nothing to do with it.
    â€œGood evening,” the cop said, leaning down to the open window.
    â€œUm, hi. Sorry. Was I speeding? I thought I was pretty much going the speed limit.” My heart was racing, and I had to fight to keep my voice level. Please, God, I know I haven’t been to church in a few years, but if you could just do me this one favor and not let him look in the trunk...
    The cop was middle-aged, darkeyed and brown-skinned, with a heavy moustache. I figured he was leaning in to check my breath, like my father always did. “You had anything to drink tonight?” he asked.
    â€œNo.” I gestured at the paper cups in the drinks tray. “Just coffee.”
    â€œOregon license plates, huh? Where are you heading?”
    â€œI’m from Portland. Going to Los Angeles. Um, I have family down there,” I said. It wasn’t true, but it seemed like a good thing to say. Like, a responsible kind of reason to be driving through California at night . Please don’t look in the trunk. Don’t search the car. “Um, was I over the speed limit?”
    He straightened up with a grunt, hands on his lower back. “You weren’t speeding. You’ve got a taillight out though.”
    â€œOh. I didn’t realize...”
    â€œNo one ever does. No one thinks to check their taillights.” He shook his head. “Better get that fixed, all right?”
    â€œYeah, for sure. Thanks for letting me know.” Zach wasn’t crying anymore, and I didn’t want to draw attention to him and Ronnie in the backseat, so I kept my eyes on the cop. “I’ll get that dealt with right away.”
    â€œAll right then. You have a safe trip.”
    â€œThanks.” My hand was shaking as I rolled my window closed. A cold trickle of sweat ran down my back. I turned around in my seat. “What was all that about?”
    She lifted Zach back into his car seat. “What? I just didn’t want to get a ticket, that’s all.” She tucked Zach’s arms back into his straps and fastened the buckle across his chest. Her face was flushed, and she didn’t meet my gaze.
    â€œAnd that business about not using your name?” I started up the engine and rejoined the flow of traffic on the freeway.
    â€œI don’t know,” she said. “I just don’t