It's Only Life

"We are all being set up," she declared, exhaling impatiently and ashing on the floor of the T-bird. A group of children spilled off a nearby bus, their faces painted like superheroes, a chaperone begging them to calm down as she distributed money.  The April sky was a pale blue and the discarded wrappers of the less "green" patrons of the golden arches tumbled across the empty parking lot.  Joanie could hear the faint squawking of the high school marching band over the wind.  She turned to face Chris in the driver's seat.

"What?" Chris' chin was smeared with special sauce.  Her fries were balanced between her knees and her extra large coke sat leaning in the broken cup holder, leaking on the floor. 

A truck rumbled up to the drive through.

Joanie said, "All of this bullshit.  The Big Macs, the single-file lines, consumerism, loud-ass trucks that are supposed to establish masculinity.  Think about it.  What's it all for?"

Chris was tossing her garbage out the window.  "I'm pretty sure that's just capitalism, dude.  Supply and demand.  You supply me with advertising and I demand 10,000 greasy, fattening calories served up in 2 minutes or less.  How is that a set up?"

"To keep us docile," she sighed.  "I mean, it's not like every tiny thing is a set up or orchestrated, but in the big picture it seems like we end up sorta....boxed in, you know?"

Chris began rubbing her stomach. "Oh yeah, I love the Mickey D's set up.  They can box me in any day." Joanie tossed her butt out and began rolling up the window.  Chris left hers open and began the laborious process of starting the old Ford.  It took only six tries. As they rolled along Oaklawn, past the trailer park and the auto mechanics, Chris' phone rang.  She glanced at the display and groaned as she flipped it open.  Joanie giggled and began making faces at her.

"What do you want?"

"..."

"No.  We're already out."

"..."

"I don't give a shit. That's not my problem."

"..."

"Ugh, fine.  5 minutes.  I'm not stopping.  We'll just roll by and you can dive in the window."
She snapped the phone closed and threw it on the dash.  Joanie started laughing.  They were rounding the curve by the old baseball fields and a group of children were flying a kite with Star Wars characters emblazoned on it.  The wind was nearly pulling the pilot off his feet.  Chris jerked the wheel, sending Joanie's head into the window. Chris smirked.

"Ow, you bitch," Joanie said, still laughing.  She reached for her cigarettes. "What's up with Cale?"

Chris sighed, "Something about a new mouse.  He wants us to take him to Wal-Mart."

Joanie gazed out the window as they cruised down their dying main street.  Chris flipped radio stations impatiently.  The old car shook at the stop signs, hating to idle like a race horse past its prime.  The seats' seams were bursting, cigarette burns and tears revealing the stuffing Joanie called Grenfyr, Eater of Spare Change.  Most of the dash lights had burnt out long before and Chris' father had instructed her in the fine art of gauging her fuel reserve by her odometer. 

Cale was sitting on his front step when the girls pulled up, shivering with his hands jammed in the pockets of his sweatshirt.  "Your left headlight's out," he he said as he climbed past Joanie into the back seat.

"Suck it,” Chris snapped.

Cale laughed through his nose, "Hey Joanie.  How ya been?"

Joanie turned to face him.  "I'm ok.  How's your sister?"

He blinked.  "She's good.  Yeah, they say she'll come home soon."

Joanie smiled, "Kick ass. Tell her I -".  Just then, Chris hurled the car out of the driveway.  Joanie punched Chris in the arm and started swearing.

"God damnit, Chris, my mom's home," screamed Cale as the curtains of the house's picture window fell closed.  "Now she's gonna chew me out when I get back."

Chris turned up the volume on the tinny stereo and cruised off toward Wal-Mart.  Journey drowned out Joanie and Chris' conversation, but she could hear the swells of laughter.  She took the long way, making it longer by turning down no less than 11 unnecessary side streets.  Joanie and Cale were oblivious.  Chris sailed down the main street hill and turned just before the hospital on Wexler. She pressed hard on the accelerator.  The car strained to keep up with the demands of its driver, but made it to 40 by the end of the block.  Mr. Gallagher was sitting in his wheelchair in front of the hospital, watching as the kids flew by.  Chris watched him in her mirror as he shrank and then disappeared. The neon signs on the drive-in next door were lit by the time Chris pulled into the Wal-Mart lot.  Cale was climbing over the seat before she had it in park.  She shoved him back into the cushion.

She said, "How long is this gonna take?"

"10 minutes, max," he replied, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

She turned back to the front and Joanie opened the door to let Cale out.  She climbed back into the car and pulled out her cigarettes, offering one to Chris.

Lighting it, Joanie said, "What's your deal with him?  He's not that annoying.  It's not like he's all pervy and weird or anything."

Chris took a drag, removed it from her mouth, and studied the lit end.  "I dunno.  I guess I'm just sick of him always hanging around.  When we were 5 it was no big thing, but I thought he'd, you know, get his own friends by now.  It pisses me off how he just takes it.  Like he thinks I secretly love him or something."

"Shit.  You do love him.  We both know you wouldn't put up with him if you didn't like him a little and you wouldn't be tonguing that cig like that unless you had some kind of Freudian fantasy running through your little toe head."

"Fuck you," she mumbled through lips pursed around the cigarette.  Chris rummaged through her purse, then the coin tray, before shoving her hand inside the gaping seat cushion.

Joanie looked up from her phone.  "What the hell?"

"I just need fifteeen cents..."

"For what?"

"A pop."

"Dude, you just had an extra large Coke.  How are you not pissing your Superman undies right now?"

"It just sounds really good right now.  That Sam's Choice crap's only fifty cents anyway."

Joanie rolled her eyes and went back to her phone.  She mumbled, "You want it cause it's there."

Chris gave up and yanked her hand free of Grenfyr. "You win again, demon beast!"  The girls leaned out the windows and shook their fists at the sky.  A few customers cast disapproving glances.  Joanie made faces at them and Chris honked the worn out horn.  And they waited.  Chris smoked three cigarettes and watched lightning strike in the east.  The breeze had gotten stiff and cold since the sun had gone down and she put on her sweatshirt.  Joanie rummaged through the glove box, examining expired insurance cards, unopened straws, and a very embarrassing picture for someone named "Chrissy" from the class of 1995.

"Some chick my brother probably screwed when he had the car," said Chris as she took the photo from Joanie and tossed it out the window.

"Eeeewww," Joanie cried as she feverishly wiped her hands on her pants, "he's a total family man.  There's no way he ever banged in here."

"Yeah.  He was a huge sleaze ball before he met Sarah.  He told me he's had crabs 3 times."

"Nasty.  Why would you let me ride around in here without knowing it was the scene of all his amateur porn videos?"

Chris stared into the mirror, watching her classmates speed away from the town's only stoplight in their parents' cars. "Because I hate you," she said, still looking into the mirror.  "We Febreezed the shit out of it, so you'll probably just get syphilis."

The girls were still exchanging good-natured blows when Cale got back to the car.  "Save some for me, ladies," he said. Joanie slapped him in the back of the head while letting him climb into the back seat.  Cale sat down and ripped into the packaging on the mouse.

"How's the nerdgasm?" said Chris.

Cale reached forward and massaged her shoulder.  "You should come back here and I'll show you."

Joanie snatched her phone out of the cup holder and turned on her camera. "Yay, porno," she shouted.
Chris slapped Cale's hand off of her shoulder and turned around to face him.  He started laughing and pursing his lips at the camera while Joanie spouted off entries from her list of directorial clichés.  Chris fumed at Cale, shoving him into the seat and fueling his delight.  Soon, Joanie began urging the two "lovers" to kiss. 

The laughter in the car came to a riotous halt once Cale's nose started bleeding.  He cupped his nasal fountain in his hands as tears began rolling down his face.  Chris, too, was nursing her hand when she turned back around in her seat.  Joanie's camera had captured the entire scene: Cale leaning forward in feigned anticipation of a kiss, Chris's small fist colliding with his nose, and Cale's subsequent shock.

"Fuck!  What the fuck, Chris?” he said, his voice modulated by his readjusted nose.  Joanie stared at Chris who was gazing complacently out the windshield.  Her phone was recording the armrest now.  Cale started scooting toward her seat, so Joanie leaned forward and opened the door to let him out.

He stood outside the car while the slow drip from his nose stained the parking lot.  Joanie finally said, "Want some napkins or something?"  He nodded and she pulled a wad from the stash in the glove compartment and handed it to him.  He leaned over and looked past Joanie into the car.

"You bitch.  I wasn't really going to kiss you."  Chris refused to acknowledge him.  "You really need to chill out.  I've never done anything to you.  Right, Joanie?"

"Hey, man, I'm not getting involved in this," she said.  Chris finally moved.  But only to give Cale the finger as the car sped out of the parking lot.

Chris' blood-flecked knuckles gleamed intermittently in the light from the street lamps as the passed.  She still hadn't said a word.  Joanie pretended to look out the window, all the while watching for any change in Chris with her peripheral vision.  When Chris turned into Joanie's driveway and put the car in park, Joanie turned and spent several seconds choosing her words before speaking.

"What the fuck was that?!  We were just fucking around.  He didn't really expect you to kiss him.  He...I mean, I get that he's annoying and whatever, but you just fucking hit him!  And now you're acting like some kind of psycho not talking.  You left him at Wal-Mart and we still have his mouse.  You're gonna have to see him again.  What the hell are you gonna say?  Why the hell did you do that, Chris?!"

Chris grinned a little and shook her head.  "I'm sick of him."