Pitch

I bumped him out of the way with my hip. “Whatever. So Mr. Livingston is an idiot. It’s not as if he – damn it!” I cursed.

“What? What? What is it? Is someone coming?” Travis flattened himself against the side of the car and dropped to the ground. It would have been funny if I wasn’t so angry.

“He left the keys in the ignition!” Stupid yuppie East siders. They deserved to have their cars stolen.

“That’s too bad,” said Travis, making no attempt to disguise his relief. He stood up and made a grab for my elbow. I snatched my arm out of reach.

“No,” I said stubbornly. “We’re not leaving yet.”

“Lola… If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking -”

“I think we said we were going to steal a car,” I interrupted. “And that is exactly what we’re going to do. Now get in.”

“Get in?” he gaped. “Uh uh. No way. You said we were just going to hot wire it, not drive it. You promised.”

I felt an irrational surge of anger. This wasn’t turning out anything like I thought it would. We were supposed to break in the car, start it, and drive off into the sunset like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde. Why? Because I can.

Except now the car wasn’t locked, the stupid keys were in it, and my partner in crime had turned chicken.

Flipping my long hair behind my shoulder I slid smoothly into the front seat and turned the key. The car started with a quiet purr and my anger kicked over to adrenaline. It pumped through my veins, a better high than any stupid cigarette could give me.

Rolling down the window I leaned out and grinned at Travis who stared down at me in slack jawed disbelief. “Want to go for a ride, sugar?” I said in my best southern drawl.

“No.”

“Get in, Travis.” It wasn’t a request.

“We are so going to jail,” he whimpered before he ran around the back of the car and more or less fell into the passenger seat. I grinned recklessly as I put the car in reverse and started to glide down the driveway.

“They don’t put straight A students with full scholarships to Princeton in jail, my friend. You’re safe.”

“I don’t want you to go to jail either,” he said.

I glanced over at him. His face was white as a sheet and he had both hands braced against the dash board, but he was doing it. He was here. I sighed. Damn it.

“What are you doing?” he asked as I tapped the brakes and slid the car into drive at the bottom of the driveway. “Lola? What’s going on?”

“We drove a stolen car, didn’t we?” I said, beyond disgruntled. “Now we’re putting it back. Safe and sound. You can add it to your -”

A huge crash from inside the house cut me off mid sentence. Heart pounding, I pulled the car back up to exactly where it was before and killed the engine. Travis and I hunched low in our seats. I saw the whites of his eyes flash as he turned his head to look at me.

“What was that?” he hissed.

“Why are you asking me?”

“We have to get out of here. We have to run. We have to run away and never say a word about this to anyone.”

I sucked on the inside of my cheek, considering our options before I said, “We can’t go yet.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because, dummy, if we open up the doors the little lights will go on and he’ll know we’re out here.” It wasn’t something I had thought about until just this minute. I guess part of me always imagined that Mr. Livingston of 233 Turner Street wouldn’t be home when we tried to steal his car. A stupid presumption, since if he was gone chances were he would have taken his car with him.

I sat up just enough to see the front of the house. None of the lights were on, which was weird, because I knew I had heard something fall over inside. Maybe he had a dog. Or a giant cat. Maybe he wasn’t even home.

“What are you waiting for? Just turn the lights off,” said Travis.

I drew in a deep breath. I had really been hoping to avoid this part. “I kind of… uh… don’t know how.”

“Lola,” he said in an oddly strained voice. “What are you talking about?”

Oh boy. “I’ve never exactly driven a car before and I don’t know where the switch is,” I admitted. Honestly, it was a miracle I had gotten it down the driveway without hitting something. Travis should have been happy.

Silence. And then…

“WHAT?”

“Shut up!” In the darkness I found his mouth and slapped my hand over it. It was a good thing it was dark inside the car so Travis couldn’t see my face was the approximate color of a tomato. “I wasn’t planning on actually driving it anywhere,” I said. “Are you going to be quiet now?”

He shook his head, which I took to mean ‘yes’, and I slowly withdrew my hand.

“You’re insane,” he said the second his mouth was uncovered. “Absolutely nuts. You told me you got your driver’s license six months ago.”

“I lied. I don’t even have my permit.”

“Don’t even… No permit… Crazy…” He continued to sputter out random words while I snuck another look at the house. Still no lights. That decided it. Mr. Livingston was either asleep or not home. A pet must have knocked something over which explained the loud noise. We were in the clear.

“Let’s go,” I said. I opened up the door and shut it silently behind me, holding extra long to the handle so there wasn’t even a click as it went back into place. The lights inside the car popped on, just like I thought they would. I glared at Travis through the window and tapped my wrist, a clear signal that time was ticking away.

Travis, being Travis, scrambled across the center console and spilled out of the driver’s side door. He landed hard on his hands and knees. Grabbing his elbow, I hauled him up to his feet. He dusted himself off and straightened up, still angry, but at least capable of talking coherently again.

“I hate you,” he said succinctly.

“Where is your backpack?” I asked, ignoring him.

His head swiveled around as he tried to look over his shoulder.

I sighed. “You left it in the car, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” he mumbled.

“Go grab it. I’ll keep a look out. Then we are – did you hear that?” I broke off with a frown. I tilted my head to the side and closed my eyes, trying to pin point the direction of the sound.

“Hear what? I don’t hear anything.”

“It sounded like… A cry for help,” I decided. My eyes opened. I frowned at Travis. “You really didn’t hear that?”

“I told you I didn’t hear -”

But Travis never got finish what he going to say as a blood curdling scream the likes of which I had never heard outside of a horror movie tore through the night.

CHAPTER TWO