CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE ~ OPERATION: COOKIE CUTTER ~ by B.A. Linhares

Josh has me into a bear hug as we roll a couple of time and stop next to a grimy car tires. I feel like a pancake under his weight and I can’t move my head. I open my eyes and see our distorted reflection in a smashed “VW” hubcap. Josh’s hand is mashing my face into his warm chest. I can hear his heart. This is a comforting sound...however... “I can’t breath!” I cry mutedly into his shirt.

Josh lets go and I turn my head to take a breath. I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut in pain as hot exhaust fills my nose and mouth. Tears fill my eyes as I gage.

Josh throws his head back and yells, “Zak! Turn your engine off!”

Coughing, I sit up eye level with Zak’s rusty, dented, metal bumper. I’m still in shock. Through blurred eyes, I glance around looking for Char. I’m going to kick her butt! Less than an inch away, I recognize my Mustang’s flawless front bumper. In the smooth shiny metal is a reflection of the faded florescent orange Endless Summer Search for the Perfect Wave sticker I gave Zak a long, long time ago.

Josh looks at me and asks, “Cookie, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, just dirty,” I mumble, rubbing my muddy hands on my muddy jeans. The day’s heat baked the pond-sized puddle—I hurtled this morning—into a thick slimy landing strip. All I can think of is why would Char try to kill us? I guess you could say we were lucky.

Meanwhile, Zak kills his engine, get out of his VW. He jumps out and comes over. “DUUUDE...that was INTENSE!” Zak says, pacing back and forth, flipping his dreads and shaking his head like crazy.

Josh jumps to his feet and offers his hand to me, which I take. He pulls me up and starts checking me for injuries even though I said I was fine. I inspect my filthy arms. We must be a sight, because everyone going by is staring at us. A few people, probably witnesses, crowd around us excitedly discussing what happened. My two bodyguards are standing next to their car looking intense. What must they be thinking? It starts to sprinkle rain as jagged spikes of lighting flash in the distance, followed by rolling rumbles. The wind picks up and I can feel the mud drying on my hands. I look down at the front of my cloths with dread.

“Are you sure you are okay?” Josh asks, squeezing my shoulders and arms.

I flinch. “Um, ouch, okay that hurt…” —I twist my arm around to check my right elbow— “Ewe major road rash city.”

Josh gently lifts my arm, checks my boo-boo and makes a face. “It’s superficial. Not too bad.”

Zak keeps coming up to Josh. “Seriously dude, I like, witnessed the whole thing dude...that car just missed her! Dude you like, saved Cookie’s life just now.” He pats Josh on the back. “Dude, you were like, Superman!”

The wind whips my hair. I push hair out of my face with the back of my gritty hands and look at Josh. “I’m filthy. Mind if we get going?”

There is major horn blowing and screeching tires in the distance. Everyone turns to see what the heck is going on now. Josh cranes his neck. “Sure, just give me a minute to find out what’s the deal is.”

“Fine.”

I lean on my car while he trots over to the other side of the lot. A little band of football players walks by flicking their sweaty jerseys at each other. One of them looks in the direction of the blaring horn and shouts. “Hey wait a minuet guys! That’s Brennan's slut girl friend...Char Mc Doo-ya!”

Char has a tainted reputation. Around school, it’s common knowledge. She doesn’t seem to care that people talk about her so I usually ignore stupid remarks like this. However, this time it rubs me the wrong way. Without hesitation, I cup my grimy hands to my mouth and yell, “Hey JERK OFF! If you call my friend that again I’ll—”

The horn blowing and screeching tires distract me from the idiot. Everyone scatters trying to get out of the way of the oncoming black Lexus––like a locomotive on tires! Behind the wheel is Char’s moon face, saucer eyes and shinny purple lip gloss.

“Not again!”

“LOOK OUT!”

“DUDE!”

Josh and I end up going in opposite directions. Tires SCREECH! Then there’s a strange whirring sound before a horrible scrapping sound. Metal CRASHES! Finally a jarring THUD that actually shakes the ground under my feet. Somehow, beside me now, Josh shouts, “Somebody call 9-1-1!”

When the dust settles— or mud in this case— a horrible sight meets us. The Lexus plowed head-on into the driver’s side of Zak’s poor little beetle, the impact so powerful the VW is flattened like a bug on a windshield. Evidently, Char never slowed down. Actually it looks like a like a gigantic blue Frisbee leaning up against the destroyed chain-link fence. The crowd is over checking on Char. I see a few adults in the bunch. Within minuets there are sirens in the distance.

“My little car!” Zak is freaking out.

 “I can’t bare to look,” I tell Josh as we examine my Mustang. I’m relieved to say my car avoided direct impact. I pick up a rearview mirror on the ground and notice a tiny scratch on my front fender.

Josh checks it out. “Looks like Zak’s mirror became airborne and made a small surface scratch.”

Then there’s ruckus as Char actually tries to crank up the destroyed Lexus. We turn to watch her. She flings open the driver’s door and leaps out of the car miraculously unscathed. She starts cussing up a storm––literally! I take a step forward just as Billy Brennan pulls up in his Porsche, blocking my way. Billy gets out and tries to force Char into his Porsche. Then the air really turns blue. F this F that. A bolt of lightning flashes and rain starts pouring down on the scene. But, no body budges. Josh and I decide we’ve heard enough excitement for one day.

“Yeah. Lets go, there are enough witnesses,” Josh shouts. He grabs our discarded backpacks and we dive into the Mustang. I crack the window to see how to maneuver out of the tight spot and avoid running over anybody or anything. Claps of thunder partially obscure the torrent of foul language being by spewed Char while Billy physically shoves her into the front seat.

Numb, I blow out a breath and look out my side window at the mob following behind Billy’s Porsche like a parade. I glance around at the disaster and wipe my dirty wet hands on my ruined jeans. The whole is scene is surreal.

Josh jingles my key and I look over. He hands them to me and our eyes lock. Josh leans over and kisses me on my cheek. I blink a couple of times stunned by his kiss. Wondering if there will me more surprises. He sits back, puts on his seatbelt, and rakes his fingers through his wet hair. I buckle up and crank up the engine.

Josh fires up the defroster. He clears his throat. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I nod. Then cringe thinking about his sore knees. “You?”

“Yeah.”