sidewayz glory (8 page)

“Hey, you.”

Kennin turned and found Angelita with her arms filled with books. Her black hair was brushed out and she was wearing makeup and looked great.

“You don't usually go home this way,” Kennin said.

“I know,” said Angelita. “Tito told me to meet him here. I don't know why.”

Kennin smiled bitterly to himself. He knew exactly why Tito wanted his sister to be on the front steps when school ended.

“Have you seen him?” Angelita asked.

“I have a feeling he'll be taking his time,” Kennin said.

The faint lines on Angelita's forehead deepened, but she didn't press the question. Instead she asked, “So how are you?”

“Better, thanks.”

She nodded at the cast. “When does it come off?”

“Funny you should ask,” Kennin said. “In about an hour.”

“After only a month?” Angelita said. “That fast?”

“I'm tired of it,” Kennin said. “Doctor said it could come off. Though he'd rather wait.”

“Oh.” Angelita scowled.

An awkward moment passed. Whenever she was near him, Angelita felt torn. She had a month to go before she could graduate and move to California. Everyone agreed it was the best thing for her. Kennin hardly came to school and seemed to have no other ambition than driving as fast as possible. The two of them didn't make sense together. Angelita knew it would be best if she steered clear of him.

Mariel came out the front doors. When she saw Kennin, a big smile appeared on her face. She brushed past Angelita and touched Kennin lightly on the arm. “Ready?” she asked.

Kennin gave Angelita one last look. But her eyes were downcast and she didn't see.

“Here. I'll take your bag,” Mariel said, picking up his backpack. She held it in one hand and placed her other hand on Kennin's arm, as if he needed help getting down the steps. Kennin knew it was just for show.

Mariel's IS300 was parked halfway down the block. When they got there, Mariel opened the door for him. Kennin tossed the crutches in the back, then angled the cast in and eased himself into the passenger seat.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said when Mariel got into the driver's seat.

“My pleasure,” she replied, and pulled away from the curb. The IS300 was a peppy little beast, and Mariel quickly shifted through the gears to third.

“The clinic's across town and it's a real pain getting on and off buses with this cast,” Kennin said.

“You don't have to explain,” Mariel said, and gestured to the LCD screen for the navigation system, which displayed a color map of Las Vegas. “Touch the screen where you want to go.”

Kennin pressed his finger against the screen and an electronic voice instructed Mariel to make a left turn in two hundred feet.

“What happened to your Saab?” Kennin asked. Before the IS300, Mariel had driven a Saab convertible.

“The lease ran out,” Mariel said. “The Swedish don't understand what it's like to live in a place where the average summer temperature is more than a hundred degrees. The
black convertible top felt like a frying pan, so I decided to get a sedan.”

“You picked well,” Kennin said, admiring the instrument cluster, the leather seats, and the five-speed manual shift.

“So how's the 240 SX?” Mariel asked.

“Totaled,” Kennin answered.

“What a shame,” said Mariel. “I was sure you'd beat Chris that night.”

They rode in silence for a while, Kennin thinking about what Mariel had just said.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” he finally said.

“Okay,” said Mariel.

“Why are you so down on him?”

“Simple. He doesn't have a clue about how to treat a girl. To him we're just sex objects and arm candy.”

“Ever tell him that?” Kennin asked.

“About a thousand times. He just doesn't get it.” She swiveled her head and smiled at him. “You, on the other hand, seem to understand what a girl needs.”

Kennin didn't answer. The computer voice in the navigation system told Mariel to prepare for a right turn in five hundred feet.

“Still think I'm playing you just to get Chris's attention?” Mariel asked.

“Why shouldn't I think that?” Kennin replied.

“Because maybe it's not true,” said Mariel.

Kennin found that hard to believe. Chris Craven was the quarterback of the football team, drove a hot car, had plenty of money, and would be going to college next year. What wasn't to like? Meanwhile, Kennin spotted the beige concrete exterior of the hospital ahead of them on the right.

“That's it,” he said.

They parked and went into the orthopedic outpatient clinic. With a medical resident watching, a nervous young blond medical student cut the cast off, using a small saw with a round blade. The student kept looking over her shoulder at the resident for approval.

“Just cut the stupid thing off already,” the resident snapped impatiently.

“You're not instilling much confidence,” said Mariel, who'd come into the room with Kennin.

“People pay for confidence,” the resident replied wryly. “Your friend here gets to be a guinea pig.”

The cast came off, and the accompanying odor made both Kennin and Mariel wrinkle their noses.

“Don't worry,” said the resident. “It's just the accumulated dead skin. It'll go away as soon as you wash the leg.”

They gave him a cane and a booklet of exercises for his leg, then sent him on his way. Kennin couldn't help but appreciate Mariel for staying with him the whole time, and even dealing with the smell from his leg, when she could have stayed in the waiting room and read
People
magazine. Maybe she wasn't just playing him to get Chris's attention.

“Where to now?” Mariel asked when they were back in the IS300.

“The Babylon,” Kennin said.

“The doctor said you could go back to work?” Mariel asked, surprised.

“He didn't say I couldn't,” Kennin replied.

“You don't want to give yourself a day off?”

“Can't afford it,” Kennin said. That much was true, but he also didn't want to ask her to drive him home. The fewer people who knew where he lived, the better.

Mariel, who got a new car every time the lease on the old one ran out, mulled over what he'd just said. “Did you ever tell me what the deal was with your parents?”

Kennin hadn't. He appreciated Mariel's help, but he didn't want her pity, Telling her that his mother was dead and his father was doing time in the federal prison camp at Nellis Air Force Base was more information than she needed.

“They're back in California,” he lied.

“Then why are you and your sister here?” Mariel asked.

“It's a long story,” said Kennin.

“One I'm not gonna hear, right?” Mariel said.

They stopped in front of the Babylon. Before Kennin could get out of the car, Tito rushed out of the garage wearing his khaki car-washing uniform. He seemed excited, but slightly confused.

“Hey,” he said to Kennin, but his eyes were on Mariel.

“Mariel just took me to get my cast off,” Kennin explained.

“You're just in time,” Tito said. “Chris is trying out the track.”

From a distance came the high-pitched whine of a turbo-charged SR20DET. In the Lexus, Kennin became alert.

Tito grinned. “Music to your ears, right?”

Kennin felt an instant yearning to see the car. No matter how hard he tried to resist, deep down he wanted to see the track and what Chris was doing.

“Oh yeah, I see it!” Tito chuckled and turned to Mariel. “You see it in his eyes? This guy's got transmission fluid in his veins.”

Kennin pushed open the Lexus's door and grabbed the cane from the back. He turned to Mariel. “Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it.”

“Hold on,” she said. “I'm going with you.”

the Lexus, Tito gave Kennin a curious look. “Okay, here's what happens next,” he said. “I'll say, ‘What's that about?' and you'll say, ‘Nothing,' and I'll say, ‘Mr. Mysterious again,' and you'll just shrug. The silent routine is getting old, dude. Maybe it's time to come up with something new.”

“I thought you'd be happy,” Kennin said, and nodded at the Lexus. “If I'm with her, I'm not messing with your sister.”

“Right,” Tito replied. “Let's keep it that way.”

Mariel got out of the Lexus and walked toward them. Tito slapped his hands together. “All right! Let's go!”

They went around the parking garage toward the overflow lot behind the casino. The squealing and screeching of tires and the whine of the engine grew louder.

“Does it sound like he's having fun, or what?” Tito asked eagerly.

Kennin saw white smoke rising in the air before he saw either the car or the course. Workers had erected a temporary plywood fence while they'd turned the lot into a track. Next he smelled the oily scent of recently laid asphalt. They found an opening between the plywood sheets and went in.

“Oh, man!” Tito groaned loudly at the sight. Spread before them were four acres of smooth, glistening black asphalt. Workers with a tall crane were installing a bank of lights on one of four towers designed to illuminate the track at night. A winding, overlapping course had been laid out using orange cones, and Chris's shimmering red 240 SX
Slide or Die
was drifting sideways in a storm of smoke and screeching thunder.

“I'm frickin' dying watching him,” Tito moaned. “He's got boost and pushing four hundred rwhp!”

A group of people were standing about fifty yards away, near several piles of tires. Kennin recognized Ian, Derek, Driftdog Dave, and Mutt and Megs. Parked on the tarmac behind them in what resembled a pit area were Ian's white Toyota Cressida and Driftdog's Nissan 180 SX turbo splotched gray and black with body putty and primer.

A moment later Chris finished the course and rolled
Slide or Die
to a stop in front of the group. He got out and pulled off his helmet, then stared for a long moment at Kennin and Mariel. He turned to the others and started to talk, mostly to Derek. Kennin was too far away to hear what he was saying.

Driftdog spotted them and came over. He was a tall guy with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a scar through his left eyebrow. Earlier in the fall he'd blown the 180 SX's engine in a tsuiso against Chris. The car had caught fire and Kennin had helped him get out before he got seriously burned.

Driftdog gave Kennin a high five. “Hey, how's the leg?”

“Just got the cast off,” Kennin said.

“Way to go,” Driftdog said.

“You been out on this yet?” Kennin asked, nodding at the course.

“Yeah, just killed a set of tires,” Driftdog said. “What a frickin' blast.”

“How's the surface?” Kennin asked.

“Still sticky,” said Driftdog. “Makes it a little harder to break free. But in a couple of weeks it's gonna be awesome. You want to take my car around the track a few times?”

Ever since he'd “saved” Driftdog, the guy had been trying to pay him back. “It's a nice offer,” Kennin said. “But my left leg's still kind of weak. I have to build it back up before I start working a clutch.”

“Gotcha,” Driftdog said. “But when the time's right, you let me know.”

Meanwhile, the group over by
Slide or Die
was still talking.

“What do you think they're gabbing about?” Tito asked.

“Mostly the track layout,” Driftdog said. “They've been fiddling with it all afternoon.”

Sure enough, Megs and Mutt walked out on the track and started to move the orange cones around, widening the apex in one of the curves. While Ian headed for the white Cressida, Chris joined Kennin, Tito, and Mariel. He glanced from Mariel to Kennin and back.

“Where you been?” he asked Mariel.

“I took a friend to get his cast off,” Mariel replied.