Teasing Fate |The Outsiders|

35. "Good" Is Subjective

"BUT MARLEY WAS NO MORE A JD THAN I WAS A SAINT

***

There's something kinda surreal about barreling down the highway in the middle of August, while every bump in the road sends me bouncing around in the backseat like some week-old takeout from the last time George got paid to stalk a couple of kids. The sun's beating down through the window, real bright and angry, like George's face when I point out the leftover donut under his chin -- chins It's turning the car into a sauna, so hot I can't even lean forward and grab at the bars separating me and George without risking third-degree burns. At this point in time though, I was willin' to risk it. A guy can only listen to the fucking Browns for so long. Judging by the quick flash of green to my right, with Tulsa; 20 Miles painted on its surface, I really shouldn't have to suffer in silence much longer.

I throw myself back against the leather upholstery, ignoring the way it clings to the back of my shirt like a second skin. It ain't even my shirt, so I think that's why everything's so baggy. The food in reform isn't the best, either, but I doubt it made me drop ten pounds in eight months thanks to malnutrition. They take everything from you when you get there, even cut your hair real short, too. It grew back twice as quick every time it was cut short though, and it ain't like the nurses are about to come at me with a pair of scissors when security is too busy to hold my hands back.

I don't mind the nurses that much -- especially the younger ones. Not like that, it\s just because they're all too nice to be real bitchy 'bout the fact we're all 'unstable teen boys.' They're kinda scared of us too, at least of me, I think. Hitting a girl's a line I really ain't itching to cross, but they don't know that. Guess it's just the Shepard rep working its charm again. I know I wouldn't pull anything with those girls, but I guess I couldn't say the same for the rest of the guys I got roped up with.

"Nancy told you to stop rubbin' it."

It's been eight months, but the skin still doesn't feel like mine. All gnarled and nasty, I can end up picking at the flesh that's tried its hardest to heal and not feel a damn thing. Nancy was one of the nurses in the reform, with real dark hair almost down to the small of her back and brown eyes to match. Besides being in the yard, class, or my 'room', I ended up spending a lot of time stuck on a cot while she poked and prodded away. I stare through the bars and catch George's eyes in the mirror. He doesn't look away until I drop my hand back to the seat, letting my nails scratch up his seats when the itching starts again. "Well maybe if you sped up I could do somethin' 'bout it," I grumble. I hear him scoff, low enough it could pass for just another bass note from Patti Page's Tennessee Waltz, but I hear it. "Christ, you're a fuckin' cop. No one's gonna snitch if you're goin' a mile over the limit."

"You could always walk, Shepard. Lord knows enough hitchers end up ditches, think anyone would miss you if you did?"

His words make something coil up inside me like the time Pony was wailing on our door last year after Curls fell from the phone pole. It hits the back of my throat like the stench of gasoline, sharp and bitter. It's a little like gunpowder, too. It took a long time to get the stink of gunpowder off of me. Outta my hair, off of my skin and shit like that. Everything stunk that first week, like stale beer and too-cheap-to-be-good cologne. Apparently, no one else was smelling smoke curling through the air and rotting wood either. "You good back there, Tim? Lemme turn up the AC."

I can still smell it at the forefront of my mind. I can feel the smooth metal trigger pushed against my finger, can still feel the rifle balancing precariously in my grip. I try telling myself I'm just rocking 'cause George can't drive for shit, dig my nails a little further into the seat, none of it works that well though. God, it's thick enough to taste now, coating my tongue and the back of my throat ready to suffocate me. "Ah, fuck-"