If I Was Your Girl(6)

“Your funeral,” she said with a lazy wave. “See you around if you don’t die.”

*

Sweat poured down my back as I walked along the shoulder of the road. After the first thirty minutes I had covered two of the six miles, but I panted and dragged my feet. I thought about calling Dad, but didn’t want to bother him on my very first day. I made it another mile, but my knees ached and my bare calves stung, scratched up from the brambles. My tongue felt dry, and my head throbbed.

I barely registered as a black car blasted by, then reversed to a stop on the shoulder beside me.

The window rolled down and a pale girl with short dark hair leaned out. “Need a ride?”

“Nah,” I slurred, “I don’t wanna trouble anybody.”

She turned to someone in the backseat. “I don’t care what she said, Chloe, just get her in here before she passes out.”

A girl with a curly red mane and freckles appeared, squinting painfully in the bright light. She wore a checkered work shirt unbuttoned at mid-chest and rolled up at the sleeves. Without saying a word she took me by the arm and walked me to the rear left seat.

“Really, it’s okay…” I said weakly, but I closed my eyes as the cold air-conditioning blasted across my face. “I hope you guys aren’t kidnappers.”

“We’re not kidnapping you,” a petite girl with blond hair and innocent eyes said from the front seat, her brow furrowed with worry.

“She’ll come to her senses,” the driver said as we pulled back onto the road. “Just give her some water.”

“My name’s Anna,” the blond girl said. I opened one eye as she gave me an excited little wave. “What church do you go to?”

“Don’t mind her,” the driver said. “It’s literally the first thing she asks every person she meets. I’m Layla. Freckles is Chloe.”

“Amanda,” I said.

The girl with the red hair nodded and said “Hey” as she pulled her seat belt back on.

“A person’s faith says a lot about them,” Anna went on. “It’s a good conversation starter.”

“I don’t actually go to church anymore.” I felt a stab of guilt remembering how long it had been since I had gone to church, though I hoped God would understand why. “I used to go to Calvary Baptist, though, down near Atlanta.”

Anna clapped and bounced in her seat. “She’s a Baptist!” she said happily as the other girls rolled their eyes.

“How many people do you know in this town who aren’t Baptists?” Layla said. “How many people in the whole South?”

“I know some Lutherans,” Anna protested, squaring her shoulders.

“Here.” Chloe handed me a water bottle from her backpack. I rasped a thank-you and guzzled half the bottle, spilling water on my chin and shirt.

“You hungry?” Layla asked, turning to me from the front seat. “I bet she’s hungry. Let’s grab a bite.”

A sign reading HUNGRY DAN’S in garish neon letters hung above a 1950s-style restaurant covered with blinding chrome. I got my first good look at Layla and Anna as we left the car. Layla stood as tall as me, with black hair and creamy skin. Anna barely reached Chloe’s shoulder and her long, shimmering blond hair flowed to the bottom of her red Bible Camp T-shirt.

Inside, framed posters for movies like Grease and Rebel Without a Cause hung on the two back walls, and menus with cracked fake leather binding and plastic covers lay on the table.

As the waitress took our orders I checked my phone and realized it was dead. I started to ask if I could borrow one of the other girls’ phones to tell Dad I’d be home late, but then hesitated. I might still make it back before he got back from work, and I didn’t want to tell him I’d missed the bus on my very first day.

“So anyway,” Layla said with an air of ceremony, “there’s a football game this Thursday.” She turned to me. “You’re coming, right?”

“Ooh, yes,” Anna agreed.

“I don’t really like sports.” I shrugged.

“But our best linebacker has a crush on you,” Layla replied, smiling coyly.

“Who?”

“Parker,” Chloe said. “You know him?”

“Oh, she knows him,” Layla said, raising her eyebrows knowingly.

“I d-don’t—” I stammered.

“There’s no point playing dumb,” Layla said, a fry held gingerly between her fingers like a cigarette. “Him and Grant sit by me in biology. I heard them talking about how you shot Grant down.”

My cheeks burned as I remembered Grant’s easy smile. “It wasn’t like that.” I shook my head. I wondered, for a moment, what my response would have been if Grant had asked me out for himself.

“Quit torturing her,” Anna said. She turned to me. “So how’s Lambertville been for you so far? Everyone been nice?”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I mean, I’ve only met five people so far, including you guys and Grant.”

Anna smiled. “Who’s the fifth?”

“Her name’s Bee. We have art together.”

The girls exchanged a quick glance, their eyes meeting and then darting quickly away.

“What’s wrong with Bee?” I asked.