A Penny's Worth (The Cephas Bourdon Series) (2 page)

“Emmaline . . .  Emmaline!”

I jolted forward in shock.

“The bell rang. Let’s get outta here.” Marian eyed me, a bewildered look on her pretty face. Near black locks fell around her face, shaping in her round eyes and dainty nose.

“Sorry,” I replied, shaking my head to bring my mind back to reality.

“What were you thinking about? You looked pretty serious,” Marian said with a smile. She laughed a short ‘ha’ and shook her head in feigned disapproval.

“You gotta stop thinkin’ so hard. Chase will start to think you’re too smart for him.” Marian’s eyes twinkled with a devilish look.

“Oh, shut up,” I replied with a look of offense. “You act like he’s just some dumb jock.”

We both laughed in unison as I collected my books and shoved them into my book bag, leaving the white paper on the desk. It was convenient I always did my homework, because my daydreams definitely left that test unfinished. I slung the single strap over my right shoulder and stood to make my way toward the door. Marian and I walked to our side by side lockers and chatted about the upcoming dance while unloading our heavy bags.

A yelp escaped my mouth as a pair of large hands covered my eyes from behind. I tried to turn and discover the culprit (though I knew the familiarity of the gesture), but he was too quick. Giggles erupted from my mouth as I squirmed in his strong arms. Finally managing to turn around, I fell forward into a toned chest. Pausing for a moment to breathe in the expensive cologne ever present on his shirt, I
looked up into a handsome face. D
azzling white teeth smiled back at me. My captor went for a kiss but I turned quickly, diving out from under his captive arms. I slung my bag over my shoulder and glanced back playfully at the tall basketball star. As I began to walk away
, Chase jogged to catch up with
me. He slung his arm lazily over my shoulder and we walked out the doors to the parking lot. Nuzzling his nose into my ear, he whispered something about later tonight.

“Oh, Chase,” I exclaimed, rolling my eyes in disgust. He was forever hinting at things, things that, when spoken by her boyfriend, should excite a girl in high school. Somehow, though, I didn’t feel a rush when he whispered questionable notions into my ear. I always thought such ideas wo
uld send goose bumps up my arms
but alas, life was not as romantic as one would hope. So, I pushed him away and walked towards my own beat up car. I lifted the latch, being careful not to pull the silver handle off its hinge.

“Hey,” he called as he hoisted himself through the door of his lifted truck. “Where are you going?” The fresh, black paint job glistened in the sun and the lifted suspension peaked out from behind oversized mudding tires.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow night. Seven?” I moved my right hand across my face, my slender fingers tucking my wind tossed hair out of the way. I glanced at my outfit in the window
—
polo shirt, dark
-
washed jeans, popped collar
—
I always put my outfit together based on my shoes. I happened to be wearing converse
.
I always happened to be wearing converse, so I always happened to be wearing the same type of outfit. I used to try to dress in girly clothes, and Marian was always trying to get me to dress in such attire, but I could never keep up. It took too much work. A stray lock of hair blew across my eyes, blocking my makeshift mirror. I swooped it behind my ear
—
my hair always seemed to be falling out of place. Shrugging my shoulders, I stepped into the driver’s seat and looked around to locate Marian.

“You coming, Marian?” I shouted out the open window. Marian kissed a tall, slender boy
—
Brandon
—
on the cheek and bounced over to the car. She jumped into the passenger seat, barely closing the door before I sped out of the parking lot.

“What’s your problem today, girl?” Marian asked as she folded down the passenger visor and began primping.

“Chase totally wanted to hang out with you tonight. Anyway, so where do you want to go for the game? I was thinking we could to Iggy’s, or maybe Brandon’s basement
. . .
”

I glanced over to see Marian applying a fresh coat of lip gloss, her hands flailing as she explained whatever happened to be important at the moment. The air seemed silent somehow
—
Marian’s mouth was moving, but I heard nothing. Why didn’t I want to hang out with Chase? I always hung out with him, but somehow never really enjoyed our time together. It’s not that he wasn’t attractive or charming
—
in fact, every girl in school wanted to date my boyfriend. Somehow, though, I always felt out of place. I should be happy
—
as far as high school went, my life was a dream come true. Maybe I was just ungrateful. Or maybe I just didn’t belong with Chase. It’s not like I didn’t feel good enough for Chase or that I felt too good for him
. . .
I sure seemed to have a long list of what wasn’t the reason for my attitude.

I scoffed as m
y eyes shifted back to the road.
I looked in the distance towards the purple mountains. The sun was settling down and gray clouds tumbled over the horizon. Gray and violet twisted through the bubbling sky, slowly surfing closer, closer. The car sailed toward the ominous sky, speeding faster, faster. I glanced to the left, my head slowly twisting to look out the driver’s window. A lit house caught my attention. I blinked, not believing what I saw. I blinked once, then twice. Smoke cascaded out of the chimney and light flickered through the main floor’s side window. That house had been vacant for as long as I could remember. Who would move into that old, abandoned house?

“Emmaline!” someone shouted beside me. My eyes flicked back to the road, widening as my knuckles turned white. I gripped the wheel with both hands and squinted my eyes
—
I was in the wrong lane. Marian was bracing her body in the passenger seat, holding firmly to the chair and pushing her feet against the floor with all the strength she could muster. A small yelp escaped her lips while her hands flew upward to shield her face.

The car seemed to move in slow motion, and I glanced from the windshield to Marian, and back to the windshield. My life didn’t flash before my eyes, and I didn’t scream as did my helpless best friend. I felt a strange comfort, like I might die
—
and I didn’t mind. Then high school would be over. True, I would never become a reporter like my mother, and my father would be miserable for the rest of his life. I shook my head, suddenly appalled that I would even think of such an idea as allowing myself to crash head long into a semi
-
truck. In an instant, my instincts kicked in and I swerved sharp to the right, straightening out and slowing slightly. What had I been thinking? I was losing it, for sure.

“Gosh, girl. Watch the road, would ya? Or at least just stay on your side, eh?” Marian replied nonchalantly. I glanced sideways at my friend. She didn’t know I had just had a crazy person moment, but somehow I was offended she didn’t know. Marian was a good friend, but she more often than not noticed more about herself than anyone else. I looked back to the road as she giggled a little and flipped the mirror back down.

“So what do you think?” she asked, interrupting my reverie.

“What?” I asked. A
confused look marred my face as I snapped back into reality. “What did you say?”

“Oh my gosh, girl. Have you not heard a work I’ve been saying?” Marian retorted, drawing out the beginning of every word. Her eyes were wide and her mouth elongated as she related her previous concern.

“I said
—
I’m thinking about wearing that black shirt to the bonfire tomorrow night. You know, the one that comes all low right here and makes my waist look super skinny?” Her hands moved to emphasize her imaginary neckline and waist. “So, what do you think?” she asked persistently.

“Yeah, I think it’s super cute,” I replied with a smile. She would just be wearing a sweatshirt anyway. But I must have been thinking quite illogically
—
clearly. After all, what if she had to remove her hoodie for thirty seconds? I rolled my eyes at the thought and an exasperated sigh escaped my lips as I finally relaxed in the seat. I could
n’t wait for high school to end.
I openly hoped, though secretly doubted, the world might hold something more than superficial and vain people. I breathed in the familiar smell of musty seat covers and watermelon scented car trees to clear the depression from my mind, then made a mental note to vacuum the floors when I got the chance. The car slowed as I pulled up next to the cracked driveway.

“Alright, girl
—
I’ll see ya tomorrow at the party. But hey, call me ‘k. I need to help you find something to wear.” Marian flashed a perfect smile and grabbed her bag. She jumped out and waved as she walked backwards, holding her pink and thumb up to her right ear and mouthing ‘call me’ as she turned to walk up the front steps. I rolled my eyes with a small laugh and slammed the car into first gear. The old, blue car’s tires spun as they struggled to grip the gravel beneath them. Dust flew up in a cloud of smoke as the back end of the small car slid across the ground with force. I sped away, accelerating as fast as possible. The little four
-
cylinder pushed harder and harder, the speedometer increasing with every second. My small hand gripped the stick, manually switching the gears
. A
drenaline pumped faster and faster through my heart with each gear change. A slight smile crossed my lips as I reached to turn up the music. I cranked the volume knob and tapped my right hand to the beat, making up lyrics to the familiar tune. I moved the stick into the last gear and my foot switched in sync.

Out of the corner of my eye, red and blue lights flashed behind me. Great
—
here we go again. If I was driving a nice car, they wouldn’t pull me over, but since I was driving an old beater
. . .
Hitting the radio in frustration, I slowed the car and eased over to the side of the road. White sunglasses covered the look of disgust in my eyes as I watched the oversized, blue uniform step out of the white Ford car and slowly meander over to my window.

“How’s it goin’ today, officer?” I asked sweetly. A forced smile crossed my face as the officer leaned on the open window and peered in.

“Goin’ a little fast, weren’t ya’?” the man in blue inquired in a drawled voice. He was chewing a toothpick, which he promptly removed from his mouth to point towards me.

“How old are you, little ‘miss?” His lips elongated with every word, spit attempting to make its way out of its disgusting cage. I tried to visibly move away from the flailing toothpick of spit and wood.

“I’m seventeen and a half, sir.” I smiled and tilted my head. “You know, officer, I was just a little frustrated
—
that’s why I was driving so fast.” I lifted my sunglasses to the top of my head.

“My boyfriend is being so awful, and I just wish somebody understood. But nobody does, and I
. . .
I
. . .
” I allowed short sobs to erupt from my mouth. “I’m sorry, officer. I just
. . .
”

“Oh, don’t you worry yer purty little head,” the uniformed man relied. “Just
. . .
just don’t cry.” He stood up straight and looked around, a look of worry on his face as I let out a short sob.

“Ah, shoot,” he murmured, kicking the gravel with his worn cowboy boot. “You just slow down a mite, and go talk to yer mother about it,” the officer stammered as he backed away from the car. He tipped his hat and walked quickly back to his own car. He tipped his hat and walked briskly back to his own car. I smirked as he walked away, my white teeth glinting in a victory grin. Pulling my sunglasses back into place, I eyed my rear view mirror before pulling out onto the highway. Wow, what a sucker.

I wiped a fake tear from my face, silently gloating at my sweet escape. I raised my sunglasses to look in the mirror, wiping at the slightly smeared mascara. I couldn’t even count the number of times I had gotten out of speeding tickets. I giggled a little, but my voice caught in my throat. Another tear slipped across my cheek. ‘Go talk to your mother about it,’ he had said. I watched my face scrunch up with emotion. A frown crossed my brow and upturned my mouth. I straightened my furrowed eyebrows and tore my gaze away from the mirror, trying to clear my mind. Stop thinking about, Emmaline, I coaxed my fragile emotions. Usually once I started crying, I couldn’t stop. That all happened a long time ago, anyway. I gripped the steering wheel and shook my head to clear my mind. I turned my attention back to the road as I pushed the gas pedal farther to the floor, reveling in the rush of the quick acceleration.

I veered right, entering onto the highway. Woods Bay, Montana was a small town filled with a small amount of people who led very small lives. Nobody did much in Woods Bay; if somebody did head off to college, h only moved about one hundred miles south to Missoula. Most of my neighbors were retired or ‘drove truck’ as they called it. I was born in Woods Bay
—
well, in Kalispell, really, because no hospital existed in Woods Bay. In fact, Woods Bay couldn’t even boast a grocery store. The only big thing ab
out Woods Bay was Flathead Lake.
A
ll of the houses lined the lake’s edge, so most docks were private. I went to school in Big Fork, and my dad bought groceries in Kalispell, though that wasn’t very often. We mostly ate Chinese. The people in Woods Bay spoke in drawled voices, like the police officer who pulled me over, but my mother had never let me develop a ‘twang.’ She wasn’t from here. Lucky. I slammed on the breaks as I entered the gravel driveway. My mother would make me chocolate chip cookies right now if she were here.