*Bridget*
I was still pissed at Chance because of what had happened, so when I saw him in the hallways on Monday after school, I scowled and turned away. As he slowed upon passing me, I paid close attention to a scratch on the inside of my locker. Once he was gone, I allowed myself to breathe again.
Adelade tapped my shoulder and looked at me with lowered brows. "Are you okay? You always get really tense whenever Chance Olson is around."
Tabitha glared at me with her haunting blue eyes as if to threaten, "I dare you to lie."
A sigh of defeat escaped. "We met up at a park Saturday so he could get to know me or whatever and it ended with us yelling at each other," I explained dryly, looking down.
I expected either one of them to yell at me for being rude to him even though I said I wouldn't. But no one raised their voice. Instead, they just stared at me with wide eyes and gaping mouths.
Adelade leaned closer to me and asked in a whisper, "You were alone, with Chance, in a park, talking?" She watched me, eyes incredulous.
With furrowed brows, I nodded slowly. "Yeah . . . What else were we supposed to do? Wait," I said, holding up a hand, "don't answer that. I don't wanna know."
Tabitha and Adelade exchanged a look and returned to me.
"Wouldn't that be considered a date?" Tabitha inquired, hesitant.
My mouth dropped to the floor and my eyes bulged in shock. I gagged and exclaimed, "Oh, dear god, no! I would rather be caught dead in a peacock hat than on a date with him. Besides, didn't you hear me when I said it ended with us arguing?"
"Well, when you say you were with Chance at a park, we can't help but jump to the conclusion that you went on a date," Adelade pointed out meekly.
Tabitha's eyes turned dreamy. "It would be just like a fairytale if you two fell for each other."
I looked at her as if she was insane—which, honestly, wouldn't surprise me if she was in some way. "Are you kidding? Not only would that be a complete nightmare, but that'd also be utterly cliché. I've read at least a hundred books on it."
Tabitha cast a mysterious glance at me. "There's a reason there are so many, Bridget. Think about it. Why would there be so many variations of the same tale?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because it makes girls giggle, blush, and dream about Prince Charming, even though he doesn't exist?" I guessed, rolling my eyes.
Tabitha shook her head. "No, because it actually happens!" she insisted.
An impatient sigh released. "Maybe in your reality, girls. Not in mine."
As I started down the hall, a pair of feet followed, the noise boisterous and echoing. There were only two people I knew that walked as loud as they talked: the Brewsky boys. I turned to find Mikey smiling at me.
"Hey Bridge! Wanna hang out?" he asked, a hopeful look gleaming in his eyes.
I bit my lip. I felt guilty for blowing him off earlier and it'd been a while since it was just me and the guys. I decided to say yes.
Ivan picked Mikey up but he wanted to change out of his work clothes. So I drove home ahead of them, and then we planned to meet up in the yard between our two houses.
"How was school?" my dad asked offhandedly as I entered the house to drop my bag inside so I didn't have to lug it around.
I put my wallet in my purse and slung it over my shoulder. "It was fine. I only have English for homework." Another paper due. Lovely.
He stood up from the couch, beer in hand, and studied my purse. "You goin' somewhere?"
"Uh, yeah," I replied, distracted by making sure I had everything with me. "I'm gonna hang with Mikey and Ivan, 'kay?"
He grunted. "I don't trust 'em, Bridget. Is there pepper spray in that bag of yours?"
I looked at my dad. "Dad, I've been hanging out with those idiots since I could walk. I can handle myself around them."
"Well, if any of their hands get close to the front button of your jeans, kick them in their fruits," my father instructed with a single nod of his head.
I chuckled. "I'm pretty sure their sack of grapes is already raisins," I responded with a smirk.
He laughed and raised his beer bottle to me. "I'm not sure how well I raised you, but I taught you some damn good comebacks."
My smile stayed on my face as I ventured back outside. I stretched as the sun touched my cheeks and fell golden onto my hair. I let out a deep breath and readied myself mentally for an afternoon with the Brewsky boys, which, knowing them, could end up either very badly or god knows what.
Ivan looked the same, aside from a new wrinkle on his forehead. Ah, the joys of the working class. He gave me a smile and wrapped me up in a trucker man's hug. "So good to see you, Bridget."
I was having trouble breathing in his ever-tightening hold. I tapped his arm so he let me go and I could breathe once more. "Yeah. How's work been?"
We began to walk towards the busiest street in Brimwell, where the tunnels lay on the opposite side. Honking cars and screeching tires grew louder, and exhaust fumes became easier to smell as we approached the street.
Mikey was closest to the road, while Ivan stood in the middle of the sidewalk and I teetered between sidewalk and front yards.
Ivan put his hands in his pockets. "Well, it's different. I'm just thankful I have a job, you know? The whole schedule and assigned duties take some time to get used to, but it's good. I do break a sweat every once in a while. It's certainly a work out on shipment days," he blabbed.
I'd lost interest after he'd said, "Well, it's different." I'd occasionally nod my head or mutter a "Yeah" when he'd pause.
Mikey seemed uninterested, too. He'd study the sky, look at his hands, then kick at the sidewalk. He'd probably heard this a thousand times.
"So how's school been for you, Bridget? Mikey told me you got that male model or whatever going there now," Ivan mentioned, looking down at me.
I played with a strand of hair. "Oh, yeah. The model is really annoying. He attracts attention wherever he goes. And what's worse is he actually enjoys the attention."
Ivan chuckled. "Commands the attention of the world, does he? Sounds like a celebrity to me."
Mikey joined the conversation. "Yeah, with that. If he's so famous here, why can't he be famous elsewhere?"
"Yeah, seriously," I agreed, scoffing.
"And why doesn't the fame spread? Brimwell's tiny, granted, but people travel. You'd think people would gossip about him in some other city. Hell, visitors should see him on billboards, right?" Ivan added.
Mikey shrugged. "Maybe he's like Brimwell's private little secret or something."
Ivan nodded and pointed out, "It's the one thing Brimwell's been proud of since the old train station was put in."
I kicked a pebble on the sidewalk as I grumbled, "All I know is he's a pain in the ass and I can't stand him."
Mikey glanced at me. "That's odd, since you two spend so much time together."
"Whoa," Ivan bellowed in surprise, stopping to look at me. "You mean to tell me you and the model have been seeing each other on the side?"
I rolled my eyes. "He talks to me for some stupid reason and I talk back, though it kills me inside. Besides, just because we talk doesn't mean we're together." I gagged. "I'd rather die."
Ivan smirked as we started walking again. He hit my shoulder with his arm and announced, "Well, I'm happy to see your taste in men hasn't changed."
We reached our destination at last, ready to make the run of death. Mikey and Ivan dodged racing cars and ended up on the other side of the street safely. It was sad to say, but they were getting good at this.
I joined them on the other side and responded sarcastically, slightly out of breath, "Yeah, droll men who can cook. My taste in guys is so great."
Ivan chuckled, even though I was pretty sure he didn't know what "droll" meant—yeah, they were that stupid—as he and Mikey jumped over the barrier and slid down the incline.
"So where are we going?" I asked, knowing full well the tunnels were no longer our territory.
Mikey said over his shoulder, "There's an abandoned field just beyond the tunnels. We figured it'd work just as well as our own little getaway."
As we passed the entrance to a sewer opening under the road, we saw a couple laying on top of each other, making out. It made us all gag, but then Ivan got a mischievous look in his eye.
He paused in front of them, cupped his hands around his mouth, and called, "Hey, practice safe sex! Might I suggest Trojan?"
Mikey and I burst out laughing as we ran away from the interrupted couple, who sent us enraged glares. I was having trouble breathing and Mikey wiped a pretend tear from the corner of his eye.
Ivan strutted behind us, a victorious smile on his face. "Ah, I love being me."
We sauntered onto the other side of the tunnels, where it substituted as an unofficial skate-park. We traveled up a hill and on the following side sat an old abandoned graying farm, surrounded by acres of golden brown wheat and grass.
"Wow," was all I could manage for the moment. When I regained control of my voice, I mused, "They really let this place go, didn't they?"
Mikey and Ivan nodded simultaneously as Mikey said, "That's kind of why we picked this place. No one would willingly come here."
I look a small step forward, lips pursed. "You know, this place might not be so bad. There aren't as many ways to get hurt, but this hill is large enough to send us rolling for five minutes. Who's up for it?"
Without another word, the Brewsky brothers collapsed onto their stomachs, facing sideways. They flipped over to their backs and down they went, hollering and laughing. Grass was flying behind them as they uprooted it on their way down; and they were going too fast for comfort. At the bottom, they were giggling like schoolgirls in front of a boy band. Ivan was an idiot and stood up. Instantly, he fell over and complained how everything was spinning.
I hated getting dizzy. Whenever I did, I'd have an urge to puke up my last meal. So instead of rolling down, like the Brewsky boys were suggesting quite stridently, I turned back towards the tunnels to find something to slide down on.
"Ow," I whispered harshly as I stepped on a broken beer bottle. I walked over a moth-eaten mattress and a smashed flashlight. Finally, I saw a cardboard box in working condition, grabbed it, and brought it up to the top of the hill.
Kicking down one of the sections so my legs could go straight, I made myself comfortable in the box. With a sudden rush of adrenaline, I scooted the box forward. Finally, it tilted, and I was racing down the hill.
Screams of joy escaped my mouth as I smiled at the passing sight of blurring grass. The wind whipped my hair wildly behind me and my cheeks and nose grew cold. My knuckles were white from gripping the sides of the box so tightly and my legs felt weak. As I continued down the long hill, my mind asked a question that made my heart race: will I be able to stop? I shook the question from my head and simply enjoyed the speed and adrenaline of sliding at top speed down the hill.
Finally, Mikey and Ivan came into my view. I was going so fast I couldn't see their faces. I couldn't even tell them apart. They were just two blurred masses, morphing into one unidentifiable smudge of distorted colors.
"Ready?" one of them asked over the sound of the rushing wind, sending my heart aflutter—like it wasn't already beating fast enough.
Before my mind could figure out what they were up to, I was being hurled into the air and I landed hard on the dead grass that poked into my skin. The sensation of flying, even for just a second, induced a series of giggles as I lay on the grass.
Mikey laughed and hooted. "Ah, man! That was probably the most wicked thing I've ever seen!"
"You were goin' so fast, we were afraid you'd never stop!" Ivan confessed with great enthusiasm.
I sat up and glanced back at them. They were holding a side of the box to stop it. The sudden stop had sent me flying and caused me to land a few feet away from them.
Mikey's eyes were eager as he inquired, "What was it like?"
Slowly, the muscles in my legs that had turned to Jell-O during the trip down returned, and I stood up. I wiped the seat of my jeans and then fixed my hair the best I could without a brush. I smiled at them and answered, "It was better than any rollercoaster I've ever been on."
The brothers exchanged a look of intrigue and excitement. Without a single word, they agreed to try going down the hill my way.
Mikey grabbed my wrist and tugged on me to let me know we were going back up the hill. We began the tedious trek back up, the first of many to come.
"Man, I still feel dizzy. If I die, tell my boss I won't be there tomorrow," Ivan gushed, dramatic, putting his hand on his forehead.
As we walked, I looked at the two boisterous boys who I still believed would become ice road truckers, and smiled to myself. These guys weren't so bad. They might have been complete idiots, but they weren't bad friends.