Mark My Words

16 | Think Of Me Fondly

Copyright © 2018. All Rights Reserved.

Despite the smashing success of the car wash-brat fry combo, Bradshaw was in a physical disarray that following Monday.

Due to the their success, Sami treated Rosalie and Ray to Starbucks that morning. It started out as a bright and sunny day, only to turn into overcast through the five-mile drive to campus. Ray perched herself in the middle of the backseat, leaning over the center console to play DJ. She sucked down half of her iced coffee as Rosalie twirled the milk around in hers.

It was as Rosalie was popping the bubbles on her lid that she heard Sami's horrified gasp of, "Oh no..."

Ray and Rosalie looked up. Ray cursed under her breath, and Rosalie was too terrified to voice her opinion on the state of Bradshaw's parking lot.

Every row of trees were strung together with strips of toilet paper. It gave the edge of the property line zebra stripes up and down, and to top it off, someone had spray painted red lines between the rows of parking spots. Sami followed one such line to his usual parking spot just a few spots down from where Lennie's Maserati sat in all its horrible glory.

"Oh no, Lennie..." Rosalie moaned, hand over her mouth.

Lennie's Knights' blue Maserati was now marred by blood-red lines over the hood, the windshield, and over the trunk. Several of the soccer guys stood around it, Jace Clemons and Jamie-Lee among them.

Ray was out of Sami's car first. "What the fuck face? I know it's Adams, but please tell me it wasn't Adams," she said, storming over to the soccer guys. Rosalie dragged her backpack out of the front seat, and emerged from the car. Her eyes went up to the toilet paper dangling overhead, and then to their blood-stained parking lot.

"Seems red and black are coming back," Clemons said, scuffing a shoe against the asphalt. "I think we all know who's excited for the game tomorrow."

"At least they didn't trash your car," Jamie said what Lennie couldn't. Lennie had his forehead over the hood of his car.

"I just got it washed, too..." he whined against the metal. Sami walked over and laid a hesitant hand on Lennie's shoulder, followed by an awkward pat.

"I don't even own a car," Rosalie said, and Jamie shrugged as if it made no difference.

"Fifty bucks says it's Birchmeir," Clemons said. "He streaked last year's Homecoming powderpuff game."

Lucas Birchmeir was a senior defender for the Adams High Lions boys soccer team. The Lions, despite their uppity, militant strategies and personalities, were all pure demons outside of school and practice. Their coach was known for keeping them all on strict schedules otherwise. Rosalie heard once that Adams High had a wide variety of cafeteria options, but the soccer players were restricted to protein shakes, granola bars, and the bland healthy diet options in the never-visited-once-by-the-school-population corner of the cafeteria.

"Blake Miles has had it out for me since he became captain last year," Lennie said, straightening up. He looked wretched, which was really saying something because Hollister was likely mourning the loss of their best model to eye bags right this very moment. "Their captains have this... grudge against any Knights captain."

"Really? I've never had an issue," Rosalie said, arms crossed.

"That's because you're perfect and don't start fights, Rosie," Sami said, and followed it with a sweet smile. Jamie nodded in agreement from over the hood, and his smile didn't falter when Rosalie turned a glare onto him.