Little did John know that in Little Rock, I would finally strike out. He was in a happy moment courtesy of whiskey and a touch of cough syrup. So as he walked carefully from the car to the bathroom, I leaned against my car and surveyed the area. I filled the tank and rubbed red lipgloss across my lips. I saw a guy my age, maybe a little younger, and he was airing up his front tire. His hair was black and messy; his shirt was soaked with sweat.
I smiled across the parking lot. I closed the gas cap and looked around for cameras.
"It's a hot one," he called out to me. "Isn't it?"
"Sure is. It was 104 earlier."
"You from around these parts?"
I thought. Maybe I sounded a little different from the locals.
"I've got family here, so I'm passing through to visit," I lied as he approached. "Me and my brother."
"I'm staying this summer with family, myself. Right now I'm about to get this piece of shit towed home," he said, gesturing to his car. It was a Mustang and it had seen many crashes, I thought.
"I'm Layne," I said.
"I'm Corey," he said, reaching to shake my hand. "If you're in town this evening, you want to get a drink?"
"Sure," I said. "Preferably beer?"
"Hell yeah," he said, pulling his phone from his jeans pocket. I felt antsy as John would surely come out of the bathroom at any moment. *I have to do it.*
"I'll put my number in," I said as he handed me his unlocked phone, clicking on the settings and turning off his location. "You can text me."
He smiled and took his phone back, not glancing at it as he put it into his pocket.
"Alright, well, I'll see you later then, Layne?"
"Definitely."
As Cory turned to go back and tend to his car, he didn't see my nervous fingers grip the mini-pry crowbar from where it rested atop my tire. Above my head and into his, it crushed a bone with yelp and fell back into me.
And in a blur, I popped the trunk and smashed him once more across his skull.
*Oh, God, here comes John* I thought as I looked at the unconscious or *hopefully dead* man in the trunk.
"I'll be back," I whispered.
Grabbing my deodorant from the trunk and waving it at John as I slammed it shut and we got back into the car.
"It's hot as hell," John said, his voice soft and slow and slurred. "You're shaking."
I looked at my hands as they gripped the wheel. He was right. But he hadn't seen the blood splattered on my thigh, which I quickly rubbed away.
"Yeah, because it's hot," I confirmed flatly.
We turned the music off and we fled the scene.
The stretch between Louisiana and Missouri included the flat and bland roads of Arkansas but I knew I would never remember a moment of Arkansas as dull. The few spikes we saw made it worth it to John and the sun beat down so hard I could feel a tan imprinting itself on one of my arms and part of my thigh. I wanted to drink out of sheer boredom, though the idea of veering off highway and smashing my car into a cow made me decide to wait.
Especially with a body in the trunk.
John was further than tipsy.
"I need to go to a stop," he said.
"That was quick."
"Well yeah but it's going happen either way."
I pressed the pedal and we hit 85 mph. John needed to stop and I needed to get Cory out of the trunk.
"I'll pull over by the trees. You get out and go, and then I will.
John agreed and before I even came to a stop, he was pushing on the door.
"You have the child safety lock on," noted as I parked on the roadside and unlocked the door.
I tried to steady my breathing as John got out of the car to tend to his business. He was going to need to take a break from the inebriation for his health and because it was *my *turn* after all of this I've gone through. But at the time, his confused state was monumentally beneficial.
He jumped back in the car.
"Done. I'm tripping, Layne. I heard the car knocking."
My heart sank.
"Knocking?" I gave a phony laugh. "I've got to piss, just stay here. I'll see if there's any knocking."
John laughed and I got out of the car, immediately popping the trunk.
"Let me out, oh God," the sad voice said to me. Cory was still alive.
"I will but you're not going to like it," I said. Within seconds, my fishing knife tore across his throat and I yanked him from the trunk, struggling against his weight, and left him bleeding in the grass by the highway.
As I closed the trunk and got back into the car, I wiped blood across my black shorts. Some was on my thigh.
*Oh, shit* I thought.
"No monsters in the car, I checked," I confirmed as John changed through a few songs on his phone.
"Good. I'm not drinking anything else."
"Fuck no you aren't. You're driving after the next stop."
John smiled and I drove away as fast as possible, glancing briefly at Cory in the rear view mirror.
"Are you bleeding?" John asked.
My vision turned tunnel as I glanced down at the smear across my pad.
"Every month!" I grinned. John scowled and I sighed in relief.
I reached across and ran my fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face.
He smiled at me and I hit 85mph once again, my stomach knotted in butterflies as the sun began to sink.
"Let's play a game," John said. "Let's play truth or dare."
"Dare, on the interstate?"
"Truth then, except at truck stops," he modified.
I bit my lip in hesitation but adrenaline got the best of me as I grinned and whispered,
"Yes."
Speeding into the orange sunlight, my soul urged itself to slide out of my mouth and to rip John's from his body in return. He laughed as he looked at me, for he understood.
I smiled across the parking lot. I closed the gas cap and looked around for cameras.
"It's a hot one," he called out to me. "Isn't it?"
"Sure is. It was 104 earlier."
"You from around these parts?"
I thought. Maybe I sounded a little different from the locals.
"I've got family here, so I'm passing through to visit," I lied as he approached. "Me and my brother."
"I'm staying this summer with family, myself. Right now I'm about to get this piece of shit towed home," he said, gesturing to his car. It was a Mustang and it had seen many crashes, I thought.
"I'm Layne," I said.
"I'm Corey," he said, reaching to shake my hand. "If you're in town this evening, you want to get a drink?"
"Sure," I said. "Preferably beer?"
"Hell yeah," he said, pulling his phone from his jeans pocket. I felt antsy as John would surely come out of the bathroom at any moment. *I have to do it.*
"I'll put my number in," I said as he handed me his unlocked phone, clicking on the settings and turning off his location. "You can text me."
He smiled and took his phone back, not glancing at it as he put it into his pocket.
"Alright, well, I'll see you later then, Layne?"
"Definitely."
As Cory turned to go back and tend to his car, he didn't see my nervous fingers grip the mini-pry crowbar from where it rested atop my tire. Above my head and into his, it crushed a bone with yelp and fell back into me.
And in a blur, I popped the trunk and smashed him once more across his skull.
*Oh, God, here comes John* I thought as I looked at the unconscious or *hopefully dead* man in the trunk.
"I'll be back," I whispered.
Grabbing my deodorant from the trunk and waving it at John as I slammed it shut and we got back into the car.
"It's hot as hell," John said, his voice soft and slow and slurred. "You're shaking."
I looked at my hands as they gripped the wheel. He was right. But he hadn't seen the blood splattered on my thigh, which I quickly rubbed away.
"Yeah, because it's hot," I confirmed flatly.
We turned the music off and we fled the scene.
The stretch between Louisiana and Missouri included the flat and bland roads of Arkansas but I knew I would never remember a moment of Arkansas as dull. The few spikes we saw made it worth it to John and the sun beat down so hard I could feel a tan imprinting itself on one of my arms and part of my thigh. I wanted to drink out of sheer boredom, though the idea of veering off highway and smashing my car into a cow made me decide to wait.
Especially with a body in the trunk.
John was further than tipsy.
"I need to go to a stop," he said.
"That was quick."
"Well yeah but it's going happen either way."
I pressed the pedal and we hit 85 mph. John needed to stop and I needed to get Cory out of the trunk.
"I'll pull over by the trees. You get out and go, and then I will.
John agreed and before I even came to a stop, he was pushing on the door.
"You have the child safety lock on," noted as I parked on the roadside and unlocked the door.
I tried to steady my breathing as John got out of the car to tend to his business. He was going to need to take a break from the inebriation for his health and because it was *my *turn* after all of this I've gone through. But at the time, his confused state was monumentally beneficial.
He jumped back in the car.
"Done. I'm tripping, Layne. I heard the car knocking."
My heart sank.
"Knocking?" I gave a phony laugh. "I've got to piss, just stay here. I'll see if there's any knocking."
John laughed and I got out of the car, immediately popping the trunk.
"Let me out, oh God," the sad voice said to me. Cory was still alive.
"I will but you're not going to like it," I said. Within seconds, my fishing knife tore across his throat and I yanked him from the trunk, struggling against his weight, and left him bleeding in the grass by the highway.
As I closed the trunk and got back into the car, I wiped blood across my black shorts. Some was on my thigh.
*Oh, shit* I thought.
"No monsters in the car, I checked," I confirmed as John changed through a few songs on his phone.
"Good. I'm not drinking anything else."
"Fuck no you aren't. You're driving after the next stop."
John smiled and I drove away as fast as possible, glancing briefly at Cory in the rear view mirror.
"Are you bleeding?" John asked.
My vision turned tunnel as I glanced down at the smear across my pad.
"Every month!" I grinned. John scowled and I sighed in relief.
I reached across and ran my fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face.
He smiled at me and I hit 85mph once again, my stomach knotted in butterflies as the sun began to sink.
"Let's play a game," John said. "Let's play truth or dare."
"Dare, on the interstate?"
"Truth then, except at truck stops," he modified.
I bit my lip in hesitation but adrenaline got the best of me as I grinned and whispered,
"Yes."
Speeding into the orange sunlight, my soul urged itself to slide out of my mouth and to rip John's from his body in return. He laughed as he looked at me, for he understood.
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