Peer Pressure
Dillon wakes me up. I fell asleep in the boots and leather mini-skirt and nothing else. He's brought a friend home. The friend is grinning down at me. I yank the sleeping bag over me. His name is Barrel, and he's big and round like one.
"She'll do," he says. Then he leaves.
"Do what?" My head is pounding.
"Nothing. Don't worry about it." Dillon heads for the shower. "Go back to sleep."
So I do.
At the turnoff to Fastback Beach, Spider stomps the brakes and the car fishtails. He straightens it but we've passed the turnoff, so he cuts a U-turn in the middle of the highway, laying rubber that smokes around us. Then we're on the gravel trail leading down to the beach.
Below us, white in the moonlight, stretch miles of sand. This is a perfect place for drag racing. Spider steps on it and the car jumps ahead. I put my hand down for balance and brace as we hit a dune and become airborne.
Warren stands tall and proud, still gorgeous despite his forced swim. He nods. "I’d like to thank you all for being so gullible, making it so easy for me to steal your beads."
An empty beer can is tossed at Warren's head, and then another.
"Back in the pond," Jerod orders.
