CHAPTER TEN ~ OPERATION: COOKIE CUTTER by B. A. Linhares

Sean breaks up with moi!

 

 

The girl’s dressing room in the gym is unusually quiet. I seem to be the last one out. It’s late in the day so the lack of sunlight makes it dim and shadowy in my corner of the gym building. It makes me think of the scary teenage movies everyone loves to watch. Not that I’m scared or anything. I cram my damp swimsuit in a special compartment in my backpack. Rinse off a little then rub my skin dry with one of the rough towels on the cart.

I quickly fasten my jeans and tug on my top. Then run a brush through my damp hair. Lock my locker and take my compact out of my purse and apply a little mascara and lip gloss. I slide on my shoes and hump on my overloaded backpack. I've got to stop at my book locker and drop off some of theses texts .

Less than five minuets later, I push through the doors and spot Sean in swim team attire as he turns the corner, my guess, heading to the front of the school. He looks like a Olympian gold medalist in his white short sleeved polo shirt with the school logo on the breast pocket, navy blue Nike pants with white stripes along the outside legs, and white Nike tennis shoes. He has a pool towel slung around his neck. His longish blonde hair is blowing back from his boyishly handsome face. I’m somewhat tall, 5’ 6”, but Sean makes me feel short, he’s over six feet tall and sturdy. Pop says (even though Sean can polish off two helpings of dinner), there's not a lick of fat on that boy.

I scoot up next to him and smile sweetly. “Hey you. Sorry I’m so late.”

Still walking, Sean scowls down at me and says, “I’ve been looking everywhere, where the hell were you?”

"I told your cousin Marc to tell you I had to stick around until everyone finished try outs because Coach T wanted to talk to me. It was important!” I explain briefly why I'm late and struggle to keep up with him with my heavy backpack weighing me down. His backpack looks as overloaded as mine does so of course I can’t expect him to carry my stuff. Actually, it would be nice if he'd at least offer.

Sean stops and looks down at me. “I didn't see Marc. All I ask is that you be on time so I don’t have to wait around outside the girl’s gym looking like a lost puppy." He pick up my right hand. "That's why I bought you the watch. I thought it would help you be on time.”

Anger rises to the surface and I make fists. “Geez, Sean chill! What is the big deal? Why are you always picking a fight?” I roll my eyes. “Sorry! Gaud, is everybody having a crappy day or what?"

We don't talk as we skirt past the building where my locker is and head toward the front of the school.

"Uh, I guess I’m lugging all this stuff home."

Sean hears me grumble and says, “The janitors already locked the exterior doors so they can clean the floors.” He taps the crystal on his watch and smiles.

“Oh well, I need to organize anyway.”

Sean yawns rudely and holds out his hand, snapping his fingers. “Give me the car keys. You promised I could drive.”

“Sean, wait until we get to the car. They’re at the bottom of my backpack.”

This morning, on the way to school, Sean said he felt stupid being chauffeured around by a girl. I suspect some of his buds are raging him about being younger than me. I was, like, good he deserves to be knocked down a few pegs. Anyway, to make him feel better I said he could drive home.

"Fine. Let’s get the hell outta here then. It’s late and I’m starving.

“Fine. So am I."

"Is your dad cooking tonight?” Sean asks, over his shoulder.

"I’ll call him on the way home. I have no idea what he’s up to. He meets with his watch group, and then stays holed up in den the rest of the night.”

Sean laughs. "He's probably watching porn on the Internet."

I hate feeling mad. I shake off my bad mood and nudge Sean. "He is not!"

Sean is quiet and he looks preoccupied about something.

I say, “Oh my gosh, can you believe how many new people showed up for try outs?” I laugh and shake my head. “Coach T's new assistant was freaking! That's why she had me help organize everyone and stick around, you know, to help take down the ropes. Plus she wanted to talk to me about my lousy lap time and––”

Sean growls, as we push through the double glass doors in front of the school. “Cookie, tell me all about it later. I have to make a phone call.” He takes out his cell, powers it up, and puts it to his ear.

I mutter, "Fine." On the way home, I’m sure I’ll hear all about what's bugging him. Outside, I stop on the sidewalk and watch a black car with a plastic taxi thingy on the roof going excessively fast as it cut across the parking lot. Sean keeps walking, never slowing down and not paying attention. I think taxi is going to hit Sean and shout, “Sean! Watch out!”

The driver honks angrily at Sean then sticks his arm out of the window and shakes his fist.

Sean just flips him off and keeps going.

Geez! That guy tried to run Sean down!

Before stepping off the wide walkway, I unzip the side pocket on my backpack, take out my cell, and power it up. I punch Pop's saved number and put it to my ear as I step into the crosswalk. I stop and stare at the taxi. The stupid driver’s head is turned sideways talking to the person in the backseat. He’s not even paying attention to where he’s going. The crazy taxi driver loops around the parking lot, tires squealing, and then points the taxi directly into my path, forcing me to retreat back on the pavement in the bus zone. I trip on the curb and my cell flies out of my hand, bounces off the curb and lands in the crosswalk. The taxi comes to a screeching stop a few feet away from where my phone landed. The driver kills the engine. My cell is lying near the taxi’s rear bumper. I’m tempted to tell him off for almost running over me, my boyfriend, and my cell. Not only that, he’s not supposed to park in the bus lanes. But to be honest, he scares the hell out of me. I just want to get my phone and get the hell away from him.

In shock, I shade my eyes and squint at Sean. He's way across the parking lot, leaning on my Mustang's fender, busy talking on his cell. I strain my eyes. Is that his heavy book bag and gym bag on my freaking hood? What is he thinking? That is a brand new paint job!

Beyond pissed, I retrieve my cell and examine it (it seems to be okay except for a few small scratches). I slide it in my pocket and put my free hand on the bumper and steady my legs. My overloaded backpack slides off my shoulder. I curse and catch it with my free hand, and at the same time look through the taxi's back window. At this close range, I see that the driver has a bushy black beard and a turban on his head. The person in the back seat is an older man wearing a black hat. He has his coat collar is turned up around his face. They both turn sideways, and look toward the school.

I rise up and take a step back trying to see the passenger's face.

The man in the back seat twists around and looks at me through the glass for a second or two, and then motions to the driver. Holy crap, it’s the same man I saw at the Checkmart. I freeze like a dear in headlights. The man in the back seat opens his door and climbs out. I want to run away, but my legs won't move. My brain screams, just go!

My legs feel like rubber as I scurry across the nearly vacant parking lot.

As I get closer, Sean pushes off my car and waves his arm in the air. He shouts, “Come on Cookie! Geez!”

Sean has his back to me. I whisper, "We have to get out of here fast."

He turns sideways and I see that he's still on his phone. He looks at the ground and mouths, "Police!" He makes a mean face, shades his eyes and looks right at the cab. “Well, if you don't come arrest him a certain cabbie is going to get a knuckle sandwich." He nods his head. "Yeah officer, he's driving like a maniac through our school parking lot! The rag-head-ass-munch tried to run me and my girlfriend down!” Phone pressed to his ear, he holds out his left hand wiggling his fingers.

My keys. I picture them in the bottom of my backpack, under all of my school stuff. I trot over to the passenger side and drop my backpack on the grass next to the hot tarmac, and stand under a tree for shade. Uh, my arm feels like it’s coming out of the socket. I can't believe Sean called the police.

Sean's cell goes off and he answers it and turns away from me. "Let me write it down." Leaning over my hood, he digs through his bag for pen and paper.

I glance over at him and massage my shoulder. Ever hear of texting? It pisses me off that he put his bags on my hood, but I keep it to myself. At least I can tell somebody about this creepy old man that keep following me. If Sean wasn’t so freaking cute I’d pummel him. Again, what is he thinking? If there’s so much as a tiny scratch, or dent… It feels like I’m being watched. I glance back. The cab is still there and the man is standing on the sidewalk watching me.

At last, Sean hangs up and comes over, wiping sweat out of his eyes with the white towel. "They said we should leave that they'd send an officer over to the school."

I grab his arm. “Oh my god Sean, don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure the man in that taxi is the same man I saw at the Checkmart.”

“You're kidding.”

I stand right in front of him and grip both of his arms. “Are you listening to me? I said the man in the cab is the—”

He shrugs. “So what if he’s the same man. The cops can check him out, I gave them the plate number.”

“But, he just tried to kill us and I think he’s freaking stalking me. I saw him yesterday standing out on the outer sidewalk. He was watching me. Now he shows up just as I'm leaving?”

Sean whispers, “Paranoia will destroy ya.” Then he pushes me against the side of the Mustang and kisses me on the mouth. His tongue slips between my lips and his hand creeps up inside my top.

“Sean! Stop it! Geez!”

I push him away and squat down and unzip my bag. I don't understand why he has to paw me, or is that just a guy thing. Sean is my first real boyfriend so I don’t profess to have a lot of knowledge on the “male species” but I know that I don't like PDA. I’ve gone out with a few jerky guys and some nice ones, but, if a guy needs sex to make up his mind about me or a relationship that's not really a good thing either, or is that just a guy thing too? I take everything out to get to the oversized purple key ring.

Bending, Sean snatches the key ring out of my hand. “Come on babe, nobody’s stalking you, except me.”

I shade my eyes and look up at him. “Ha-ha! So you don’t find it odd that the old man is here at our school?” I cram my stuff back in my backpack, struggle with the zipper, and give up. Dark rain clouds drift overhead, block the sun and give us some welcoming shade.

Sean shakes his head and turns his mouth down. “Not really.”

I wave my hand at the taxi. “So tell me why I keep seeing him?”

“How the hell do I know? Why are you always making something out of nothing?” Sean picks up his bags off the hood and jiggles my keys. “Is this the tacky key ring Char gave you?”

“Yes. So?”

"Just asking," he says.

"I know you don't like my friend."

"Char is a skank and Billy is a player. I told you that I think they have a perfect relationship. It's because they're real with one anther, you know what I mean?"

I remain silent while he locates the right key and unlocks the passenger door. I know that the inside of my car is hot from the sun baking it all day. I glance up at the darkening sky. Looks like rain so I don't dare put down the top until I get it fixed.

Sean pulls the seat forward and tosses his bulky bags in the back seat as if they weigh nothing. Then he opens the door wider for me and waves his arm motioning for me to get in.

I shake my head. “Let's let it cool off in there first.”

He sticks his head in and makes a face. “Good idea.”

Sean goes around and opens the driver's side door and I stare openly at the taxi (illegally) parked in front of the school. Truth is I want to see if the taxi leave before us. If they're waiting for us to leave so they can follow us, we could be in danger. The police are taking their merry time.

Sean looks over the roof at me and follows my gaze. He says, “Oh, I know why the old dude is here. He's waiting for his wife. She’s probably a teacher or on the kitchen staff. Oh, that’s a scary thought.”

It's my turn to make a face at him. “What are you even talking about?”

“Well, think about it. Those hairnet ladies have big knives.”

“Ha-ha!” S

Sean is clearly making fun of me. “Just drop it,” I mutter, and drop my eyes. My science folder is sticking out of my backpack sitting next to the car. I need to call Josh. I briefly explain my switch to Crime Science course with the brainiacs (of course leaving out the part about sitting next to Josh). For some reason I put off telling Sean about the switch in my schedule.

"I really like Mr. Jackson."

"Should I be worried?"

Then to change the subject and stall our departure a little while longer, I tell him about my little chat with Coach Thompson and the scholarship app she wants me to fill out. I want him to believe that I’m on the road to recovery from being depressed about Mom. I smile and pat the warm roof with my finger tips. “Coach thinks I have a good chance of receiving a college scholarship. I just need to fill out the paperwork.”

Sean cocks his head to the side and looks at me. “Yeah, and to think, you wanted to drop out of school last year.”

I toss him a hurt look. “Why did you have to bring that up?”

“Hey, I’m just agreeing with you.”

He strolls over and plants a kiss on my nose. I rub it off, and then cross my arms. “Question. Why did you talk to Coach Thompson about me?” I look at his crystal blue eyes. "I want the truth."

“I don't lie.” Sean exclaims, shaking his longish blonde hair away from in his face. He goes over and grips the top of doorframe, looking inside my car, and then leans back staring up at the darkening sky.

“I don’t like people talking about me behind my back, Sean.”

He turns his head toward me. “Look, at the time, I just thought Coach Thompson should know that you’re still pretty much a basket case and that it might affect your swimming.”

“Why is everybody trying to run my life?” It starts to sprinkle and I pick up my backpack.

Sean shrugs. “Cookie you ditched swim practice and spent most of the summer moping about your mother. I figure Coach Thompson could say or do something to help you snap out of it…which she did by saying that you're automatically on the swim team this year.”

“Hey, I figure you should be thanking me for caring about your future. And before you rip my head off, you can thank me for suggesting Coach have you fill out the Eva Blakely Athletic Women’s Scholarship papers.”

My jaw drops but nothing comes out of my mouth.

Sean gets in my face. “Did she tell you that my father is responsible for successfully lobbied for that group? Didn’t she? You’re a real bitch sometimes.”

Stunned, I shake my head and step back.

Sean takes my heavy backpack from me.

“Thanks,” I murmur and scoot into the passenger seat.

The air inside the car is still stifling and steamy. I zone out and think about the Global Warming debate in my Geosciences class, scheduled for Monday. The teacher wants half of the class to rebuttal the claim that there is no such thing. I’m going with the carbon footprint concept. Sean says something.

“Huh?”

“I said, fasten your seatbelt, Cookie.”

I wonder if he feels bad about what he just called me. After I fasten my seatbelt, Sean plops my backpack on my lap and then disappears around the back of the car. “Uhhh…guess not.” I shout, “Hey, Sean...could you please shut my door?”

He doesn’t respond so I balance the backpack on my lap, stick one leg out of the car, and stretch out my right arm to reach the door handle. Moaning, I slam the door and fall back in my seat. Chivalry is officially dead.

“It’s so hot. I can’t wait until winter,” I say, expecting him to slide behind the wheel. “Geez, where is he?” I twist around and look out the back windshield.

Sean is leaning against a white new model car, shooting the breeze with Adam and Karl, and a couple of guys on his swim team. They’re all wearing swim team attire. He tosses my key chain in the air and drops it. Bending he retrieves it and tosses it again. I turn around thinking gee if only I had my keys I could start the car and turn on the AC, maybe listen to some music. However if I go over to get them, I’ll look like a bitch.

I sit back in my seat. The sun is sitting low in the sky and shining through the windshield practically blinding me. I pull down the visor and roll down my window. The impending storm is causing a slight breeze. I gather up my pool damp hair and secure it with the scrunchy I keep on the gearshift. Sitting in the car without any music playing makes me feel extremely uncomfortable… to the point where it’s almost unbearable.

I pick up my CD case, open it and thumb through the selection. I take out the Goo-Goo Dolls CD Josh gave me and open it. I pull out the free hologram sticker and carefully apply it to the front of my Crime Science notebook. A bright beam of sunlight coming through the windshield sparks to life the Goo-Goo Dolls sticker. I let myself zone out while watching the miniature band jumping back and forth. I really miss seeing Josh in Mr. Jackson’s class. I can’t wait to get home and call him.

Getting more pissed by the second, I use the notebook as a fan. I contemplate breaking up with Sean right now. It isn’t that I don’t like dating him—I totally do—but lately it seems like he wants to advance our relationship further than I do. I hate that he gets angry and then pouts when I put him off. It’s childish. Not only that, how could he not understand what I went through after Mom died? I’m still going through…!

I look down at my hands. I never did find time to do my nails. I pick at the polish, and then twist around in my seat. Come on Sean! My legs are sweating and numb from the weight of my backpack. I gasp. “Oh my gosh, that taxi is still in front of the school.” It feels so weird seeing that strange man, repeatedly.

I tuck the notebook between my buck seat and the center counsel and ease the backpack into the space between my feet on the floorboard. I grip the dash and stare out the window. Little flashes of light blink from the back window of the taxi. What was that? Leaning forward, I squint out the windshield and over the Mustang’s hood. Fuzzy heat waves float above the sprawling black surface of the parking lot. Another cloudbank floats overhead and darkens the entire area. I see a series of bright flashes of light, blink from the back window of the taxi.

He’s taking pictures of the parking lot. Could Sean be right about his wife being a teacher? No way. Too coincidental. He must be a reporter. Maybe he’s doing a story on Phase II and wants to show all the Modular classroom.

I feel a tingle down low in my tummy. I sit back, pick at the chipped blue polish on my thumb and wait for the cramps to start. Just don't come early Aunt Flo. I hope Sean is in a good mood when he gets back, I really want some me time tonight. Hum, I could tell him it’s that time of the month. It won’t be the first time I lied to him about not feeling well so I could be alone. What’s wrong with wanting to spend quality time alone? During the summer, I had tons of free time so I didn’t mind hanging out with him a lot. Besides, there was nothing else to do. Char wasn’t around––she was always doing stuff with Billy Brennan.

Sighing heavily, I glance down at the bulging backpack between my feet. With all the missed days during my junior year, I’ll have to play catch up 24/7 to get my GPA up enough to get any scholarship. I’ll never be able to leave my room. Pop will have to deliver all meals to my bedroom. Fun city!

Twisting in my seat, I stare over my shoulder at Sean and mouth, “Hello, it’s hot in here!” He must have felt my vibes because he turns around and waves at me. I smile back, and watch him push off his friend’s car. Sean looks so cute when he smiles. He has dimples in both cheeks. After a quick goodbye, he jogs over gripping the ends of the towel around his neck.

His buds honk as they speed out of the parking lot.

Sean yells, “Later!”

I lean forward when he pops open the door. “Sean, start the car and crank the AC, I’m dying of heat in here!”

He slides behind the wheel, settling his long legs in the driver’s seat. “Can you believe I left my sunglasses on the bench? That would be two hundred buck out the window.” He sticks the key into the ignition, pushes his Oakley Oil Drum sunglasses up on his forehead, and wipes the sweat out of his eyes with the ends of the towel. He tosses the towel in the backseat and finally starts up the engine.

“Home James,” I say, and roll up my window. I adjust the vents on my face. The air conditioner kicks in and feels like heaven.

Sean cocks his head at me and smiles sweetly. His blue eyes look like pool water on a sunny day. He grabs my hand, pulling me over the console. “Hey, baby,” he says sweetly and then kisses me.

I close my eyes. Sean is a great kisser. Hum, do I really want to break up with him? After few minuets of awesome smooching, he presses my hand into his lap and my heart skips a beat. Not sure what to do, I freeze. I don’t totally object to touching his penis. But, it has to be covered with clothing. I admit I’m curious. Still, if this is Sean’s idea of foreplay...

He tugs down his pants low on his hip. Then he slides the scrunchy off my hair and nuzzles my neck. I lay my head on his shoulder, open my eyes and see the effect of my hand down there. Sean forces me to move my hand and I gently pull away from him and sit back in my seat. How many times do I have to tell him that I’m so not ready for this? Besides, I hate being forced to do anything! I just smile and take my scrunchy from him.

He presses into the seat and pulls up his pants. “What’s wrong?”

“Um, nothing it’s just that my head is really starting to hurt. I haven’t eaten all day. Hey, why don’t we head to CB’s for a burger and see what’s showing at the movies later, my treat. Besides, I don’t want our first time to be in a car.” I’ll say and do anything to get out of this awkward situation.

Sean doesn’t seem to hear me. He’s busy pushing and flipping knobs on the dashboard. A gust of stale hot air is blowing full blast out from the vents.

I pick up the notebook and fan it back and forth. “What’s the deal with the AC?”

“It’s broke!” Sean declares, smacking the dashboard. When that doesn’t fix it, he turns off the fan and quickly cranks down his window. “Jesus, when is your dad going to have this bag of bolts working properly?” He scrunches up his face and fans his nose with his hand. “The convertible top is crap, the seats are moldy, the air conditioner doesn’t work...god I could go on and on.”

I roll my window down, again, and look over at Sean crossing my eyes and I stick out my tongue. I hadn't noticed until now, but the interior does smells like warm moldy leather. My rain soaked seats are probably rotting as we speak. Sean hates procrastination. It drives him nuts when I put things off, which I admit I do a lot.

I say, “He was too busy with other stuff, so he didn’t get a chance to take it in.” A half-lie. Truth is I was too ashamed to tell Pop that I already screwed up my car.

Sean looks over at me. “You could’ve called me.”

“I did.” A total lie. “You weren't home.” Lying to Sean is becoming as bad a habit as smoking. “Sean, I’ll take the car in this weekend...I promise.” Leaning over, I put my hand over his hand. “Lighten up, okay?”

Sean pulls his hand away and stares out the windshield. He shakes his head and taps his sunglass down over his eyes. With his sunglasses on, I can’t see his eyes or read his face. After a few seconds of silence, he lets out a long breath and racks his long tan fingers through his thick, shoulder length blond hair.

Why he is staling, let’s go already. Oh right, he’s pouting about the sex thing––again.

I turn my face toward my open window and take a deep breath to relive some of the tension. Thank God for the breeze. I look back at Sean, open my mouth, and then shut it as something flashes in the distance. I look past Sean and stare out the side window. The black taxicab is driving by us about fifty feet away and the back window is open. Something feels odd. Glancing around, I’m somewhat surprised to see that my Mustang and the taxi are the only vehicles in the parking lot.

“What are you looking at?” Sean asks, and then twists in his seat and peers out the windows.

“That taxi cab,” I say, pointing my finger at the windshield. I squint. “It looks like the man in the back seat is facing us. He’s holding something up to his eye, binoculars?”

Small flashes of light flicker from whatever he is holding. The glint of light keeps flashing at the back window as the cab circles around to my side of the Mustang and stops about fifty feet away. An uneasy chill runs through my body.

“There it is again,” I whisper, “small flashes of light like a tiny strobe…it’s a camera. Why is he taking pictures of my car?”

Sean leans forward, squinting too. “What the hell?” He jumps out of the car and yells. “GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE! YOU PERV!”

Sean gets back inside the Mustang.

The hair on my neck stands up and I stifle a shiver as the driver backs up, and then drives slowly down to the stop sign on Miller Boulevard. Miller runs the length of Georgetown High School. The man in the back seat holds the camera out the window and another series of flashes go off as the cab turns left and drives away. It’s sudden eerily quiet. The only sounds are the distant traffic noises, the hushed sound of the wind, and an occasional chirp from a bird. It’s as if Sean and I are completely alone in the whole world.

I’m turned sideways facing Sean. I point out the window in the direction the taxi took and I notice that my hand is shaking. “You, you saw the flashes, Sean. I’m telling you that man is stalking me.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sean says, sounding cynical. “So what…I think he’s just some lone paparazzi trying to stir up another non-story about your mother’s death.”

I’m speechless. Now it’s my turn to pout.

Sean scoffs and I glance over. He’s messing with the loose clasp on my CD case. “Geez is everything you own broken?” He cusses under his breath and tosses the case over his shoulder.

My eyes follow the it as it bounces on the backseat and several of my CDs spill out, and land on top of his wet towel. I want to scream, why are you so mean to me? Instead, I force a smile. “Um, Sean, can we just go now? It’s hot. I’m tired. Like I said, I don’t feel so good…”

He reaches over and turn my face toward his. “CB’s?”

I frown. “Please, can I give you a rain check? Seriously, it’s been a long day. I just want to go home. It’s a school night and I have a shit load of homework…I’m sorry, I just have a lot on my mind that’s bothering me...” Do I dare toss in the Aunt Flo card too?

“Let me take your mind off your worries.”

Shifting in his seat, Sean lifts my chin with his finger and searches my face with his gorgeous blue eyes. I feel the heat on my cheeks. I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that it makes me weak. He starts circling my breast with kisses and I put my head back and stare at the vinyl covering. He stops and leans forward and tries to kiss me, again.

I pull back. “Sean, don’t...it’s too hot. Let’s just go.”

Looking hurt, he sits back in the seat and stares out the windshield. Geez, what does he want me to do, whip it out and do it right here in the car? I’m over this act.

I lean across the seat and say, “Sean...hello...we’re in the school parking lot! When you love someone, you sort of picture a more romantic setting…you know...?”

“Okay,” Sean whispers and takes my hand. He kisses my fingers one by one, and then says, “Well? Aren’t you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

I slowly pull my hand away and wave it indifferently. “Oh, it just that I’m tired from all the craziness.” I blow out an exaggerated breath and lay my head back on the seat. “Uh, and I totally sucked on my first lap time today and Coach T yelled at me in front of everyone...and then because Coach wanted to talk afterward…I had to sit in the hot sun waiting for everyone to get done yadayada.” I ramble on, hoping to bore Sean to death. “Probably why I’ve got a headache. Plus cramps.”

My words sound hollow even in my ears. Truth is I don't think I love Sean. If I did, why can’t I wait to get home and call Josh. I want to bounce my ideas about investigating Mom’s case, see what he thinks. Sean would have a fit if I told him I want to open my own case. About two weeks ago, Sean and I were up in my room, I was telling him about one of my nightmares. He started freaking out and yelled, “I don’t want to hear another word about you mother and or your weird dreams. It’s depressing. Talk to your shrink if you have issues.” I started crying and he just left. His words hurt me. I’ve figured out this game plan so I see right through him. He doesn’t really want to know about my problems. He’s just stalling because he’s trying to smooth things over so he can try to get in my pants again. But I don’t want to debate, I just want to go! Faking it, I clutch my stomach, and roll my head to the side, looking at him with sad eyes. “Sorry, Babe, would you hate me if we don’t hang out tonight?”

He blinks at me. “You’re joking right?" He stares out the windshield and grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. What is his problem?

“Sorry."

"I don’t see you at lunch, you get pissed when I kiss you, and now you’re freaking blowing me off?!”

"Hey, maybe we can get together and do something special this weekend.”

“Yeah, right, you’ll probably come up with some lame excuse to cancel.”

“I’m sorry Sean.” How many times do I have to say ‘I'm sorry’? I have nothing to be sorry about. He’s the one who should be apologizing to me.

Raw silence fills the small space between us.

I stare straight ahead. The sun is starting to set. I look at the time on the dash clock and turn my wrist checking my watch. It's almost 5:00. Now I wish I’d called Pop. I study the side of Sean’s face and chew on a hangnail, trying to think of something to say to appease him. I already said I was sorry, like, three times. I want to break up, but I’m afraid it will make him even madder. This is not a good time or setting. Why won’t he just start the damn car so we can get the hell out of here?

Sean throws up his hands. “This isn’t working Cookie.”

I jerk forward. “What are you saying?" I push back against my door and grip the handle as crocodile tears rush to my eyes. “You're breaking up with me?” I need to hear him say it.

He pounds his fist on the dash and screams, “Yes!”

I flinch and tighten my grip on the door handle. If he breaks anything, he’s paying for it.

He blows our a long breath and looks at me. “Hey, you’re the one that keeps pushing me away. Let’s make it permanent. The entire summer you were either crying about your mom or you were up in your room moping about her. He yells, God damn it Cookie! You spend way too much time locked in your bedroom moping. You expect me to believe that you actually see and hear your mom as if she's a ghost. In my opinion, that…shit…isn’t…normal!”

In the confinement of the car, his voice gets louder and louder. I feeling like a turtle trying to hide in its shell. I wonder how far he’ll go with this. I can't tell if this is for real or if this is just a temper tantrum and he's trying to trick me into feeling sorry for him.

“I'm over it...your mother is...”

Sean sees me scrunched up against the door and his voice trails off at the end. He takes a deep breath and slides his hands down steering wheel, letting them drop on in his lap. He sounds defeated.

I blink back hot tears and sit up a little. "Sean...I...I don't know what to say."

I’m crying now. I open the glove box pull out a wad of tissue and blew my nose loudly. It hurts my head. I flip down the vanity mirror and look at my puffy, tear-stained face. All of this drama is making my head throb really badly and I feel like I am going to puke.

Sean says, “All I want is a girlfriend who wants to be with me––you know––and do things.”

His words are bullshit. I shake my head. “Why can’t you be honest Sean? You’re breaking up with me because I won’t have sex with you!”

He hisses between clenched teeth. “Yeah, okay, I'll admit that I want sex. But It’s much more than that Cookie. I can’t take hearing about your loss anymore.”

With one hand, he grabs his backpack and towel and pulls them between the bucket seats. As if weighing his options, he pauses and lets out another long breath as if weighing his options. He grabs the towel and wipes his face and hands. The car is unbearably hot.

Leaning close to me, Sean reaches up and pushing a lose lock of hair away from my the left side of my face.

I look over and he just stare at me. I try not to flinch under his gaze.

He says, “I'm just going to say it... Your mother is dead, Cookie! Get over it!”

His words feel like a slap in the face. I jerk away and push my shoulder against the door. My hair falls in my face.

Sean opens his door and I turn my head and look at him through the strands. He latches onto his backpack and towel and climbs out of my car. He slams the door so hard it rocks the Mustang. I don't watch him walk away.

I sit there feeling my stomach twists in a painful knot. A loud humming starts in my ears blocking out any outside noise. I feel like I’m in a time-warp-vacuum. Something inside of me is thankful that he’s gone, and for a split second, I feel almost giddy.

I say, “Well, gee…that went well.” My voice is sounds alien in my ears.

Then I wail like a hurt animal and sob. The kind of sobbing that leaves you exhausted.

“Guys suck!” I scream at the top of my lungs stomping my feet. I cry and thrash about until I slump limp and sweaty in the hot interior. I sit with my hands in my lap like a paraplegic and stare at nothing. I can't breath. I wonder how long before someone shows up and finds my dead body in the Mustang.

Stupid thought, nobody ever died of suffocation in a convertible.