The Outcast

I.

Again the air condition had stopped working in her 2001 S-550 Mercedes.  Her father wouldn't have thought twice about buying her a new one, but she insisted on keeping it. She was oddly sentimental about it.  It was where she had gotten her first kiss, drove to Miami for the first time, and hell - lost her virginity in its backseat. If her father had only known that one.

She slapped the dashboard with a mixture of affection and frustration.  She rolled all the windows down, but the humid Georgia air did absolutely nothing to make her any less uncomfortable.  She fidgeted with the dials - hoping the air condition would take it upon itself to begin working. Perhaps with a little encouragement from her nudges and slaps - it would begin to get the point.  Not likely.

She glanced over at her passenger, Hannah.  Hannah looked even more miserable than she was.  Hannah leaned out the window trying her best to gather any breeze that could be mustered up by her best friend's lead foot.  Her long, ebony hair swirled around her face and she lackadaisically hung her right arm out of the window.

"Dude,  you NEED to get this AC fixed."  Hannah turned to her - arm still out of the window.  Her hair - now matted to her face, was covered in perspiration.  "This hanging out the window thing is not cutting it."

Charlotte poked her friend's barely skirted thigh.  "Maybe if you shaved your legs more - you'd be cooler."

Hannah rolled her eyes and resumed her position hanging out of the window.

Charlotte was always designated driver.  It wasn't that her friends didn't have their own cars - as a matter of fact everyone she knew had better cars than she did.  Hannah's reasoning behind having Charlotte drive was that her brand new Maserati Granturismo would most likely stick out like a sore thumb in Stone Mountain.  Charlotte could have cared less.  She was always up for something to liven up the monotonous drone of her daily privileged life.

"We'll need to get cigarettes before we meet up with Cole," shouted Hannah with her head still out the window.  Charlotte nodded. It was a miracle that she could understand her friend, but she was already familiar with, her best friends obsession with her boyfriend and their after school routine.

As she approached the Texaco parking lot, she shifted uneasily in her seat and made a feeble attempt to pull her school skirt down.  The men at the gas stations in Stone Mountain were nothing like the foolish schoolboys at Brandon Hall.  Spending time with Cole had made that quite evident to the girls.

All eyes were on the Mercedes as the girls rolled into their spot.  It seemed as if most of the men of Stone Mountain set their watches to 4pm to get a glimpse of the two girls getting their daily dosage of menthols and Twinkies.  For the men - it was a schoolgirl fantasy fulfilled, for the girls it was pure defiance and they relished every single moment of it.  Hannah ducked her head back into the car before the dust of the parking lot covered her face and hair.  Reaching into her bag - she pulled out a tube of gloss and a comb.  Like preening peacocks both girls primped and primed themselves before strutting into the quick mart. 

In sync both girls opened their doors, slamming them shut.  Charlotte fussed with her exceptionally long flaxen hair and adorned her face with her brand new Ray Bans. She shielded her face from the bright sun.  Her dress shirt, un-tucked, rustled in the breeze.   Unlike every other day - the parking lot was unusually empty.  A dilapidated old pickup truck sat parked in the handicapped spot outside of the store.  Two men sat nonchalantly on the bed smoking cigarettes and drinking cans of beer.

"Well, look-ey who we have here," whistled one of the men.  "Girls, looks like you have clearly made a wrong turn somewhere."  Ordinarily, Charlotte wouldn't even think twice to look in their direction - as the girls were used to getting catcalls from perverted old men, but she looked up.  Out of the corner of her eye, she felt his gaze on her almost immediately. Hot. Penetrating.  Fighting the urge to look over at him, she kept her eyes straightforward.  Hannah, coolly ignoring the old man's heckling grabbed Charlotte's hand and strutted herself into the store, but not before adjusting her skirt just a bit higher - to get one last whistle.  It was a game to her.  Charlotte couldn't help but turn over her shoulder to get one last glimpse of the man on the truck bed.