him as Jenny made a show of reluctantly getting to her feet and ambling over to the car, stretching to reveal both her boredom and her bare midriff.
"What do you want, Craig?" she asked, emphasizing the "you" as if she were addressing a bad smell.
Craig smiled and placed his hand on her hip, his thumb flicking the silver ring piercing her navel. "What've you got?"
She laughed but didn't move away. "More than you can handle."
In the back seat, ignored by both of them, David watched her through the open window, at once attracted and repelled by the messages she projected. He studied the fit of her clothes, imagined her experience with men, and struggled to balance the stirrings he felt with the knowledge that were he to "get lucky" with her, he'd probably end up disappointed—if he were fortunate enough to get off so lightly.
"You never complained," Craig was saying, his hand slipping a little lower on her hip. "You picked up some new tricks?"
"If I did, they weren't from you."
Craig's hand stopped, and David could see from her eyes that she feared she'd gone too far.
"I could maybe pass them along," she added, her sultry tone sounding strained.
But Craig had lost interest. "Yeah, along with Christ knows what kind of disease. I can live without that."
She straightened, stung. "Fuck you, too, asshole." She turned away as if to move off.
He laughed, letting his hand hover against the outside of the door. "I thought that's what we were just talking about. Hey, hey, come back. Lighten up, for Christ's sake. When did you get so touchy? What else you got for me?"
She paused, and David could sense her weighing her options, which, it occurred to him, might have been a bit of a reach.
"Why're you such a jerk?"
Craig brushed his fingertips against the back of her hand. "Come on, Jenny. You got something good, I can ditch these assholes and you and me can find a place."
Wayne laughed a little nervously, as if he'd been asked to do something he didn't completely understand. No one paid him any attention.
"I maybe got something," Jenny finally admitted.
"All right," Craig drawled. "That's my girl."
She straightened suddenly and took a step away from the car. "Shit."
They all followed her stare and saw a police car slowly approaching.
"Fuck this," Craig muttered, but didn't move.
"What d'we do?" Wayne asked plaintively.
"We pull our guns and shoot it out, moron. What d'ya think?"
Wayne looked crestfallen, as if now he'd catch hell for not bringing a gun.
Their eyes tracked the cruiser as it soundlessly rolled near, the reflections from the plaza's mercury lighting making its windshield glimmer, turning its driver into a vague silhouette.
"Who is it?" Craig asked Jenny.
"I don't know yet. Can't make it out."
In the back seat of the car, Chris took another nervous hit from his beer can, filling the confined space with an audible slurping.
Craig twisted around to glare at him. "Right, genius. Take a fuckin' swig right in front of the cops."
Behind him, the darkness abruptly burst into a pulsing riot of piercing blue and white lights from the cruiser's strobes.
Chris dropped the can. David quickly moved his feet to avoid the splash against the floorboards. After one last wilting glare, Craig turned away without a word and slouched slightly into his seat.
Moments later, an oversized shadow came between them and the throbbing lights.
"Hi, boys. Good evening, Jenny."
"Up yours," she said.
A flashlight blinded them all in turn as the police officer carefully checked them out.
"Turn off the ignition and get out of the car, please. This side only Keep your hands where I can see them."
Craig opened the door, resuming his earlier, surly tone. "If it ain't Officer Sam. Long time."
"That's 'Sergeant Walker' to you, Steidle. Move over there."
One by one, they lined up against the car. David felt like his intestines were filled with liquid and that the slightest jarring might make them spill over.
"I suppose not
"What do you want, Craig?" she asked, emphasizing the "you" as if she were addressing a bad smell.
Craig smiled and placed his hand on her hip, his thumb flicking the silver ring piercing her navel. "What've you got?"
She laughed but didn't move away. "More than you can handle."
In the back seat, ignored by both of them, David watched her through the open window, at once attracted and repelled by the messages she projected. He studied the fit of her clothes, imagined her experience with men, and struggled to balance the stirrings he felt with the knowledge that were he to "get lucky" with her, he'd probably end up disappointed—if he were fortunate enough to get off so lightly.
"You never complained," Craig was saying, his hand slipping a little lower on her hip. "You picked up some new tricks?"
"If I did, they weren't from you."
Craig's hand stopped, and David could see from her eyes that she feared she'd gone too far.
"I could maybe pass them along," she added, her sultry tone sounding strained.
But Craig had lost interest. "Yeah, along with Christ knows what kind of disease. I can live without that."
She straightened, stung. "Fuck you, too, asshole." She turned away as if to move off.
He laughed, letting his hand hover against the outside of the door. "I thought that's what we were just talking about. Hey, hey, come back. Lighten up, for Christ's sake. When did you get so touchy? What else you got for me?"
She paused, and David could sense her weighing her options, which, it occurred to him, might have been a bit of a reach.
"Why're you such a jerk?"
Craig brushed his fingertips against the back of her hand. "Come on, Jenny. You got something good, I can ditch these assholes and you and me can find a place."
Wayne laughed a little nervously, as if he'd been asked to do something he didn't completely understand. No one paid him any attention.
"I maybe got something," Jenny finally admitted.
"All right," Craig drawled. "That's my girl."
She straightened suddenly and took a step away from the car. "Shit."
They all followed her stare and saw a police car slowly approaching.
"Fuck this," Craig muttered, but didn't move.
"What d'we do?" Wayne asked plaintively.
"We pull our guns and shoot it out, moron. What d'ya think?"
Wayne looked crestfallen, as if now he'd catch hell for not bringing a gun.
Their eyes tracked the cruiser as it soundlessly rolled near, the reflections from the plaza's mercury lighting making its windshield glimmer, turning its driver into a vague silhouette.
"Who is it?" Craig asked Jenny.
"I don't know yet. Can't make it out."
In the back seat of the car, Chris took another nervous hit from his beer can, filling the confined space with an audible slurping.
Craig twisted around to glare at him. "Right, genius. Take a fuckin' swig right in front of the cops."
Behind him, the darkness abruptly burst into a pulsing riot of piercing blue and white lights from the cruiser's strobes.
Chris dropped the can. David quickly moved his feet to avoid the splash against the floorboards. After one last wilting glare, Craig turned away without a word and slouched slightly into his seat.
Moments later, an oversized shadow came between them and the throbbing lights.
"Hi, boys. Good evening, Jenny."
"Up yours," she said.
A flashlight blinded them all in turn as the police officer carefully checked them out.
"Turn off the ignition and get out of the car, please. This side only Keep your hands where I can see them."
Craig opened the door, resuming his earlier, surly tone. "If it ain't Officer Sam. Long time."
"That's 'Sergeant Walker' to you, Steidle. Move over there."
One by one, they lined up against the car. David felt like his intestines were filled with liquid and that the slightest jarring might make them spill over.
"I suppose not
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