Elliot Granger & The Clueless Brigade

Chapter Seven: Party at your risk in matters involving the heart

Pete and I open our car doors in the same moment Molly, and Malachi did. The nose of her beat-up, high-end SUV was barely an inch from Pete's rusted trunk. A 1979 Monte Carlo had been Pete's dream car since he saw Speed and Fury in the movie theater. The car became part of his Rock in Roll dream, granted a well-kept fully refinished version. The current Monte Carlo he had was barely passable as a car, and much more convincing as lawn furniture. The rumbling of the engine became the anthem of my friendship with Pete. I'd never be able to think of him and not the sound his car made.

"I've seen nicer streets." Molly looped her arm around mine. Her smile was keyed up and in the direction of Pete. I couldn't blame her.

"A house is a house," Malachi sped up to keep pace with the rest of us. "I'd much rather have a house than a closet of a bedroom that sets me back six hundred a month." Malachi's face twisted in disgust.

"One day I'll live in a mansion," Pete spoke to the sky. His hopeful words rained over me.

"You plan on being rich?" Molly asked, her voice tinged with interest.

"I plan on being a rock star," Pete ran his fingers through his hair, temporally uncomfortable.

Molly smiled to herself but said nothing.

I reached out and squeezed Pete's arm and mumbled, "A mansion with an apartment over the garage."

Pete laughed at this. "That goes without saying." When his eyes held me in the center, I felt like I existed in a different world, a world just our own. But, once mom died, our private little world had more pain in than before. I found myself wanting space from all that was recognizable.

The sidewalks were cracked and crumbled at the corners. Juvenile trees with bare branches cast shadows on the road, which were in similar condition. This particular neighbor didn't allow space for driveways, so the street was narrowing by framing rows of parked cars. The air was so harshly cold that the clouds of breath burned my lips each time I exhaled.

A melody of beeps broke the temporary silence that had settled between us. Malachi slid his bedazzled phone from his back pocket, "Oh nice!" He said, then turned to Molly. "Lincoln beat us here."

Pete's whole body noticeably tensed.

"That's the friend back in town?" Molly rooted around in a bright orange purse before pulling out lip gloss.

"Yeah, he's had a rough year," Malachi said this as his voice gradually fell in tone until he sounded nothing but grim. "Both his parents died in a car wreck."

My stomach tensed.

Pete sighed to himself but continued not to partake in the conversation. I couldn't figure out what his problem actually was, but it was clear, to me at least that something was getting under Pete's skin.

"Oh man," Molly dabbed purple tinted lip gloss on her full lips. She smacked her lips together exactly once, then tossed her hair behind her shoulder. This brought Pete out of his unexplained mood briefly.

Then Malachi said, "He's staying with his aunt and uncle, but is looking for a place of his own. He should be around for a while."

"Is that the guy you hired right before me?"

"Yeah, you open with him up Monday," Malachi tossed his hand to the side before pulling a cigarette out from behind his ear. "How far did we park?"

"We are in Lodi," Pete growled. His mind circling around something.

"True words, man," Molly reached out and gave Pete's arm a gentle squeeze, which made my stomach turn.