Deep Water

-two-

The Get Out of School for Two Months plan worked out perfectly. Before class started on Friday, I handed the note to the principal. Thank God I reset the voicemail on my burner phone because he called the number with me in the office and when "grandma" didn't answer I told him she must be at water aerobics. I visited all my teachers before lunch and got my homework, I may be deliberately deceiving my mother and the entire Roselake, South Carolina education system, but I refuse to fall behind and let my GPA drop below my perfect 4.0.

 I got home early and started loading a little wagon with the dog food meant to feed Mr. Cresil's cats. I plan on attacking tonight, knowing that Marie wouldn't suspect me to be out on a Friday night, therefore won't be around to check on me like a five-year-old. 

Around seven I start getting ready, dressing in all black, arming myself with a few knives, and strapping a gun to my thigh. I made my mom buy it for me a few years back for self-defense purposes, and let me say, I am a pretty good shot. I also am highly trained in Karate, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, Krav Maga, Mixed Martial Arts, and boxing. What can I say, I like to be prepared. 

 By the time I finished, I had about an hour to kill. Normally I would lay around the house and be a complete sloth, but I hate sitting around in real clothes. If you're going to lounge, you better do it right -- in sweatpants and a tee-shirt four sizes too big. 

Stumbling into my biker boots, I shrug on my leather jacket and grab the garage keys. "And here she is folks," I say to myself in my best sports announcer voice, "The person we've all been waiting for. The fastest girl in town, the coolest chick around... Maggie Paine!" 

I get a little giddy when my bike purrs to life. Seriously, I'm like a toddler going to DisneyWorld. It's kind of embarrassing.

 Buckling the helmet one-handed, I roll out of the driveway one-handed and reminisce about the first time I rode this beastly hunk of metal seven months ago.

 ***

"Alright, honey, just write your signature here and I'm going to need a guardian's signature below it. Is there someone here with you, doll?" Thank God I got a friendly DMV lady, I wasn't going to let someone with an attitude problem ruin my day.

"No, ma'am. My mama wouldn't come in. Last time she was in the DMV, she got hives so bad this nice gentleman had to carry her to the ambulance. Do you mind if I take this form out to the car to sign?" Thank God I can turn on the southern charm when I need it. 

"Sure, darlin'," she said as she highlighted the places mother needed to sign. 

I came back in Two minutes later with the documents my "mother" signed, and my mother I totally mean me. 

***

I drove from the DMV straight to the Motorcycle shop down the street with my new motorcycle-grade license in my back pocket. "Hello, Gorgeous," I say walking to the bike I've been eyeing since I could drive my motorcycle-obsessed butt down here.

 "Wow, I mean I don't know how to feel about this. You've never expressed these feelings towards me before --"

"Oh, shut up, Tiny. I was talking to my baby." I interrupted the man behind the counter. "Gross," I mumbled under my breath.

"Well don't I feel rejected. And my name is Butch, now I feel hurt and victimized." He made a pouty face right as his boss, my uncle, walked into the showroom. Geez, can that mango from a pouting child to salesman mode in half a second!

"-- and the dual-power pistons really make this baby go! And the new and improved motor... WOW! I mean --" 

My uncle interrupted, "Alright, that's enough. Get back to pretending to work, Tiny." Butch sent me a glare as I burst into a fit of laughter. I have a feeling the nickname will be around for a while. 

"Let's see it, kiddo."

"See what?"

"This week's fake license."

"Oh, Uncle Todd, how you will be dismayed!" I said, letting my southern accent shine through as I hand him my new and improved license. 

"You've gotten a lot better at forging since last time I saw you."

"Don't flatter me, my friend. Today's the day I drive my baby home and give my mother a heart attack." I muttered that last part. For months he hasn't mentioned her thoughts on the subject and I'm not going to be the first one to bring it up.

 Twenty minutes later, I signed my name, paid fully in cash, and Uncle Todd laid down the rules.

 "Drive five miles under the speed limit, no writers without proper protection, no texting and driving, and for God sakes, no boys on the bike. Don't let them ride or drive, in fact, no boys within ten feet of the thing."

 "Always been my stand-in father, haven't you." 

"If I was any type of father figure, I would never have let you set foot in this store," he scoffed.

 I grabbed my helmet and keys and strolled out the door like I owned the place. 

"Hey, just remember that Tiny sold you the bike. Emilia is going to kill me." he yelled after me. Smirking, I pulled on my helmet and stuck the keys into the ignition. The first time I heard it purr to life, I think I cried a little. 

"Alright, Maggie," I gave myself a pep talk, "you worked in the grease bucket called in disguise as a diner for weeks, saving every penny and sacrificing the well-being of your pores. If you crash this bike on the first ride, I will kill you with no mercy." I kicked the throttle and slowly backed out of the parking space, coming to a complete stop before gunning it onto the only main highway in my town and having the time of my life.