Bigger Boys & Stolen Sweethearts - Alex Turner

16. Riot Van

  "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit shit shit."

  It felt like the beginning of the end. My hands sweating hard as I slowed the car to a stop on the side of the road. It's funny to look back on but it was not funny in the moment. Even Arabella was letting out some curses of her own. My heart was beating like hummingbird wings. The car pulled up behind us, the flashing lights illuminating our faces as we looked through the rear window at it.

"We'll be fine," Arabella said to me but it was evident she was shitting herself too. "I can sit in the drivers and take the blame."

"No," I said and shook my head, "god no." She gave me this guilty nod but it was never her fault. After all the bad decision was all mine.

  I inhaled a deep breath to try and steady my heart rate but of course it didn't help one fucking bit. I'd just been pulled over by the coppers and I had been drinking. My knuckles went white as I squeezed the wheel, my palms going cold and clammy as I watched in the side mirror the police man climbing out of his flashing car. His hands on his belt as he strode towards the car. Only one word going through my mind: FUCK.

  "Alex," Arabella said quietly.

  "It's fine, I'll handle it," I said to her as calmly as I could. Oh boy was I shitting my own pants. The knock of the officer's knuckle against the car window almost made me jump to hit my head on my roof. I reeled the window down and told myself that by God I better get it together if I wanted even a chance at getting off scot-free.

  The officer crouched down and rested his elbows on the door, peering in at us like bad luck in human form. "You two are out late," was the first thing he said to me.

  "We were on a date," Arabella said immediately. He thinned his wrinkled eyes at her suspiciously and turned back to face me. He were about forty I'd say. All grumpy and sour lipped, just aching to get two kids like us into trouble at such an hour — even on a Tuesday night.

  "'Ave you been drinkin' son?" he said in this very thick accent that reminded me of Sarah Neil (the girl who invited me to go down on her friend). "You b'en swervin' down the road."

  "No," I shook my head.

  "Where you two coming from."

  "The Gr—" I started, pretty stupidly I must admit. Had Arabella not interrupted me by saying we had come back from Sheffield City Centre then I would've blown it for the both of us. The Grapes was frequently over eighteen and neither of us were, then we would've been asked how we got in and so forth. So sometimes it's lucky that Arabella was a quick thinker and had no problem interrupting anyone.

  "I'm gonna 'ave to ask you to step out the car, son," the officer said to me, he wasn't believing us for shit. More so because he didn't want to. It'd be easy to cuff us and put us through shite with our parents, taking us down to the station, it would be good entertainment for them.

  I let out quite the sigh and complied, turning off the engine and giving Arabella one last look before stepping out onto the asphalt and closing the car door behind me. This is a fucking joke. As if this is actually happening to me right now.

  "Aight show me yer sober and walk along the white line," he said to me and folded his arms. The red and blue dancing against his back and on my face.

  Don't fuck this up Turner. I was cursing at myself the entire time. I turned around and placed my sneakered feet on the straight white line that ran parallel down the road. I stepped one foot in front of the other praying to god I wouldn't fall off balance like the clutz that I am.