Only you

Can make all this world seem right

Only you

Can make the darkness bright

Only you and you alone

Can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

O-only you

Can make all this change in me

For it's true

You are my destiny...

I breathed in the satin voices that synched so perfectly in harmony with the low tones of that velvety-soft bass. The melody carried me away downriver while the lyrics punctured into me like little stabbing weapons, each line cutting significantly deeper until I felt like a bleeding mess on the inside.

The music had attracted me to it like an insect to a bright light and led me to the Dance Hall in the center of town. Instruments from a live band flowed out of the open windows and doorways, and the hall was lit up with colorful lights and a banner strung high across the doorway reading 'Castle Rock Junior High Hop'.

Keeping my head down, I scuttled past the few kids that littered the sidewalk after spying the perfect place to hide from passersby. The town library stood across the road from the hall, and I rested in its dark alcove entrance, hugging my knees and letting the music fill my ears and all of me.

Replays of tonight's events repeated over and over in my head like a skipping record, returning to the beginning and never finding the end. And it played intensely. I could still feel Ace's warmth on my skin. Those despising steel blue eyes were vivid in my mind. Song after song went by, many of them romantic numbers that kept the wounds open and the pain fresh. Opening up to the pain felt good. It felt good to let go and become the blubbering mess on the sidewalk that I had yearned to become for weeks.

Leaving the dirty floor of the alcove behind, my legs felt like jelly as they carried me into the nearest alleyway. Straining to see through the blur of tears and the lack of light, I felt my way down to the end and peered out to scout the next street. A single streetlight above shone its dim light across the closed shops and the scatter of cars along the sidewalks. I let two minutes go by to watch for movement, but not a soul stirred the air.

My head felt numb as I trudged onto the sidewalk, leaving the safety of the shadows behind. Somewhere in my mind, a decision had been made, and my legs were merely doing the necessary to get me there. All cautions, alternatives, second guesses, consequences - I shook all of it off my shoulders to lighten the load.

The nearest car only took a few steps to reach, and my lockpicks were soon in the keyhole. The door fell open in my hands, and the driver's seat became mine. I pushed my picks down the barrel of the ignition and the car vibrated around me as the engine hummed to life. But, just as I released the handbrake, knuckles rapped hard on my window, right by my ear. My heart leaped into my throat and, when I saw who it was, I swear I gagged on it.

Deep blue eyes stared at me through the glass, his face a picture of purity tainted by a crinkled brow. "Cassie?"

My hand tremored as I wound down my window, and I leaned away from him to hide my distress and puffy red eyes.

"Hey," Chris said, looking in more to see me better. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine."

"Isn't this... This looks a lot like Mr. Watkins car..."

My heart slid out of my throat and sunk to the depths of my belly where it crawled into a hole to hug and rock itself.

"Umm... I can't talk right now, Chris," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm sorry. ...Look, promise me you'll keep studying. Make something of yourself, OK? I gotta go-"

"Hey! You there! Boy! What are you doing! Get away from there!"

In my review mirror, a tiny bowler hat and tan-colored trench coat were sprint-walking up the sidewalk towards us with a hand waving madly in the air. Chris's blue eyes widened as they darted between me and the man, and he stumbled backward as if all the answers had struck him at once.

A surge of adrenaline shot up my spine, bringing a shudder to my shoulders. "Chris, get outta here!" My legs shook as my feet frantically found the pedals, and I slammed the car into gear before peeling out on the roadside so hard that the thick stench of burnt rubber wafted around me. As my wheels found their grip, I fixed my attention to the rearview mirror. Chris had disappeared from the roadside, and the trench coat was dancing around in his place, hopelessly waving after me.

My heart pumped abnormally hard. It pulsed loudly in my ears and all through me, my body feeling like one big throbbing drum. There are two types of fear, I find - there's the useful kind that heightens your senses, making you incredibly alert and aware of every tiny change around you. And then, there's the kind that cripples you, slowly eating away at your mind.

The guy recognized Chris - I'm sure of it... Running away was the worst advice you could have given him, you idiot! That'll only make him look guilty! And what if Chris 'The Thief' Chambers is accused of having something to do with it? What if Eyeball gets brought into things? What if the cops interrogate him? What if this completely ruins the car operation? What if Chris hates me for leaving him there the way I did?

Cautions, alternatives, second guesses, consequences - my head felt like a concrete mixer, churning and stirring the weight of them in with everything else that happened tonight.

"Shit!" I slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel to head back in the opposite direction.

Could I have wiped down my prints and left the car on the side of the road? Probably, but I didn't trust myself to do it right - not in my state. One mistake, one print left behind would be the death of me.

After parking up at the die-out garage and taking a breather (that is, writing a note in my journal and helping myself to Ace's scotch), I set out on the journey through the dark farmlands to Ace's place. Eight miles - shit. I vowed to never go anywhere without a bike by my side, ever again. Maybe it's high-time I buy a car.

Anyway, arriving at Ace's, I saw that he wasn't there which was a relief, but then again... wasn't, considering where he was likely to be instead. Like... at that 'men only' place. That place he said he'd meet Markus at. Nothin' stopping him from doing what he pleases now, is there?

Uhh... don't think about it, Cass. Don't think about it.

With one of my bikes finally with me, I cycled back to the Dance Hall. Everything was closed up by then and the only sounds to be heard were the ticking of turning bicycle wheels and me panting to catch my breath. I biked all around the area, including the actual scene of the crime, but I found myself alone in the street. Not surprising considering it was about 1 am. I rode around for a while longer to check if anything was going on elsewhere. I scouted out the police station, but it had no lights on and was quiet. And then, I biked to Chris's house, and that was quieter still.

Keith's place is very near to there, and I rode past it on the way out. Looking down the dark driveway where it all happened, I felt a chill fall over my shoulders. A chill that reminded me of how alone I was... and how much I already miss him.

It's... 4 am, now, and my brain feels like a car crash. I think I'll do exactly that in the spare room here at Natalie's and try to get some sleep.


Monday 8th August, 5 am

Sleep took me over before my head hit the pillow. I went in so deep I didn't even dream. I got three solid hours before being woken by a full-fist pounding on my front door - the kind of knock an angry policeman might make. I leaped up out of bed, arms and legs flailing as my whole body fizzed like I had touched an electric fence. While pulling my jeans up, I bowled into the master bedroom, bleary-eyed and hardly able to see in the first light of morning.

I drew back the edge of the curtain with abated breath to reveal Keith's black '51 Mercury parked in the driveway.

Letting the curtain drop back, I released the breath with relief, and then just stood, ever so silently. After the embarrassing drama that went down at Keith's place, seeing him was the last thing I wanted to do.

"Cassie, I know you're here," his husky voice said from the front step. "We need to talk."

I plodded to the front door and opened it with my eyes still half-lidded and my hair a frightful mess. Keith didn't react to the unkempt state of me, though. He just strolled in and leaned his large frame back against the kitchen bench.

"You wanna tell me what happened last night?" he asked, tightly folding his arms.

I closed the door, and stared at him questioningly, wondering if this was to do with the shit with Ace or what I did to Chris. "Which part did you miss?"

"So, you're gonna pretend it didn't happen, now?"

I rolled my eyes at myself and folded my arms equally as tight. "I guess you talked to Chris. Do you know where he is? Is he OK? I need to find him."

"He's doing OK. He came knocking on my door last night, all hysterical, and I thought his old man was after him for a hiding. But then he told me he'd seen you driving off in one of his teacher's cars."

"Oh." My gaze dropped to my feet. "Did he get into trouble? I suppose his teacher recognized him..."

"Yeah, Mr. Watkins... he lives down the road here, and him and my uncle are always banging heads over things. He hates the whole family. And it was no surprise to him that Chris would help Eyeball steal a car."

"He thought I was Eyeball? Oh crap..."

"The grumpy bastard was excited about talkin' to the cops, spreading shit around town and gettin' one over on the Chambers. It was the highlight of his sad old life."

Wincing, I rubbed my tired eyes. "OK, give me five minutes."

I rushed down the hallway and into the bathroom to find a hairbrush and rapidly ran it through the length of my brunette strands. I heard Keith calling after me, but I was too busy in my own head to listen. After splashing water on my face, I rushed back out to the kitchen to see Keith casually leaning against the counter, arms folded and head tilted as his blue eyes wandered down the length of me.

"What?" I said, blushing as I briskly walked across the kitchen, crossing his path. "I can't go into the cop shop looking like a feral."

Keith chuckled in his husky voice. "You always look beautiful, no matter what."

I had just reached for a glass in an upper cupboard and almost dropped it. My fumbling made me knock over a jar of toothpicks that fell off the shelf, and the little shards of wood scattered all over the bench and floor. Woops.

"Let me help."

I shook my head, unable to find my voice, and my cheeks were burning as I bent down to pick everything up. Keith bent down beside me and helped get the ones on the floor, and his bare arm brushed against mine a couple of times, the soft hairs making my tummy turn to jelly. I dared not look at him, but I could feel his eyes never leaving me.

'Because he wants to fuck you!' 'You let him hit on you, don't you?' Ace's words shot through my ears like a gun going off.

"Cass? Are you OK? What are you drinking?"

The clean-up was done, and yet I was still crouched on the floor. "Just... water," I said, picking myself up. "In the fridge."

Keith grabbed the water jug and poured me one, and I warned myself to concentrate on drinking it and not embarrass myself more by spilling it all down the front of my shirt.

"So... what were you doing stealing locally?" Keith asked, resuming his position of leaning back on the kitchen counter. "Didn't Ace ever teach you not to shit in your own nest?"

I was in the middle of a sip and gasped water into my throat, choking on it. "What?" I croaked, wiping water off my chin. "What are you... suggesting? I mean... I have... no idea-"

"You don't have to lie to me anymore. I know Ace's game and what you've been doing for him. I've been playing dumb, but I'm not stupid."

I placed the glass on the bench at my side. "How... Ummm... You really know?"

"A while ago, Chris found out Eyeball was involved in it and told me. I know Ace is doing car conversions, and maybe somewhere near to the place I picked you up the other night, huh?"

"I'd rather not confirm or deny-" A penny suddenly dropped and fell hard, embedding into my brain. That day in the alleyway - the day I met Chris and Ace and Eyeball - that's what it was all about. Ace was warning Chris not to tell anyone else about the cars. "Holy mother... Chris knew. You knew. That was months ago!"

"I warned Ace not to get you involved with all that," Keith said. "Any money you needed, I could have helped you."

"Yeah, well, I found that out too late."

"So, is Ace on the verge of gettin' busted or somethin'? Is that why you came to me for a job?"

"Things got a little rocky and Ace made me stop. But, I still owe him a lot of money. A lot."

"Jesus... It's Ace you owe?"

"It is now after he paid my real debts. Although, he keeps telling me he doesn't want it back."

"Ace saying 'no' to money? That'll be the day..."

"That's what I thought. But now I'm starting to believe him."

"There's just one thing I don't get," Keith said. "If you're not doing that shit anymore, why did you do it last night?"

"Because... the bus station was closed."

Keith's eyebrows raised and he cleared his throat. "You were gonna leave? Like... for good?"

"If Chris hadn't spotted me, I'd be... I don't know where."

He nodded and his eyes drifted away into thought.

"Look... I didn't know what I was thinking," I said. "I wasn't thinking. Anyway, I'd better go."

"You don't need to go anywhere. I took care of everything."

"What?"

"That's what I said when you ran like a mad thing into the bathroom," he smirked. "Everything's handled. So, relax."

"But... how?"

"It doesn't matter." Keith reached into his pocket and took out his car keys. The bunch jangled as he searched through them and selected one, and snapped it off the key ring. "I've got a deuce coupe in the garage at home," he said, pushing off the bench and coming near to me. "If you need some time out, you can borrow it." He took my hand and pressed the key into my palm, letting his hardened fingertips trail across my skin.

His touch caused a tingling in my hand that spread up my entire arm. I avoided looking into those eyes that I felt lingering on me, resurfacing those untamed feelings.

I swallowed hard and fidgeted with the key between my fingers. "You're offering to 'lend' your car to a car thief? Do you really think that's wise?"

He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, raising my gaze to him. "I trust you. And see - you gotta take my car so I know you'll come back," he winked.

"So, you are, in fact, wise," I grinned, just briefly. "It's a nice offer but... it doesn't feel right." Placing my hand on his arm, I lowered it, breaking away from his touch. "I don't want anything from anyone right now." I held the key out for him, and he took it back.

"Well, it's there if you change your mind."

"Thank you. Do you know where Chris is? I should still see him today."

"Erm... you know, he didn't say... How 'bout I find him for you and let you know?"

"You've done enough for me already. How did you get Mr. Watkins to-"

"I told you, it doesn't matter. Now, why don't you get some more sleep, and I'll go find Chris? As soon as I know where he is, I'll call you."

I nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"It sounds like you've had a lot on for a long time, Cass. Take some time for yourself for a few days, and then decide what you wanna do."

Keith left and I closed the door behind him, realizing that what he said was true. There was nothing immediate for me to do, no real pressure to even walk out the door. And so, I went back into the spare room, peeled my jeans down my legs and crawled between the softness of the puffy comforter blanket, and let my mind go blank.

I slept for 20 hours. Can you believe it? I woke up about two hours ago, took a shower, filled my stomach, and then put pen to paper. I feel so... refreshed. I feel a bounce in my step. My head feels clear of the haze that hung over it for the last... I don't know how long. Couple of weeks? I still haven't heard from Keith - I think he let me sleep on purpose. I think he knew how much I needed it. But, that's OK. Now, I just have to satisfy this urgent need to find Chris and apologize to him. Maybe he knows what Keith did to pull us out of this mess. Well... I guess I had better start looking.

Hey... just as I opened the door to leave, a note dropped to my doorstep. 'I'll be at the treehouse all day', it says, and it's in Chris's clean, crisp handwriting. He mentioned he and his friends had a treehouse. And... if I recall, he said it was in an empty lot next to a building supplies place. Yeah, I think I know exactly where it is.


I've been toying with the whole 'show, don't tell' concept and practicing it while trying to not go overboard. So, I hope that was still an easy read.

In my first version of this, Keith mindfully kept his distance because well, he's supposed to be trying but... eh, it was kinda boring lol. We want to keep things interesting, right?! :D

PS... I'm thinking of getting a writing group going, just to discuss techniques and stuff to help each other become better writers. Maybe group beta reading, something like that. If anyone is interested, let me know.