When Jen finally pulls over and parks in the parking lot of the one bar this town has to offer, I’m ready to get this over with. I climb out and slam the door before crossing my arms over my chest.
“Where to first?” Jen asks as she walks around the car to me.
“This is your show, Jen. I’m just along for the ride.”
“Well, I don’t know where anything is, so you’ll have to be my tour guide.”
I cough to clear my throat and paste on a smile. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Crowhurst, home of bigots and backstabbers. Behind us is Gabe’s Bar and Grill. Gabe grills up what he scrapes up fresh from this very road we’re standing on. And for the bargain price of six dollars, he’ll even call you a whore for not sleeping with him. Such a joker, that one.”
Pointing to the left and the town hall at the end of the road, I look at Jen and shake my head. “The town hall, where we hold our town meetings. A sacred place people go, where they can openly share their disdain for me.”
I walk away from the bar, crossing the road to the footpath on the left of the street. “Here we have Patti’s Hair Salon. Patti has a very specific clientele, so if you’re bitchy and self-righteous, then hop on in for a perm or a mullet from the woman who got stuck in the eighties.”
Jen chuckles and follows along as I give her a glib rundown of the buildings I recognize. Some are gone, and when I say gone, I mean boarded up rather than replaced. Seems Jen was correct about this town dying, and I don’t see anyone breathing any life into it any time soon, not when it has nothing left to offer.
“Ah, the clinic. I spent many an afternoon hanging out here, usually getting stitches or treatment for a concussion. Turns out, you really can’t knock the stupid out of someone, but that never did stop my father from trying.”
I skip to the other side of the road with a grin on my face. “You’re right. This is kinda fun.”
I point to an empty craft store as I move past it. “Prayed with her hands together, but spread her legs wide for the married pastor before every Sunday service.” I point to the following four places in a row. “Liked to snort blow, liked to blow men younger than his son, told my father I stole something that resulted in me getting three broken ribs, and last but not least…” I stand in front of the general store.
“The owner had a daughter who snuck up behind me at lunch and cut off my ponytail. When I threatened to return the favor, the owner told my father, who shaved my hair off completely. I could go on, but I won’t. My father might have been the one to draw blood, but they all left their marks. Each of them was complicit in my abuse, and honestly, coming back here, I realize I owe them nothing.”
Jen looks around warily, which is when I notice that a few people have started to gather on the sidewalk to see what’s happening. I don’t see anyone I know, though I recognize a couple from the meeting. I turn my back on them, not interested in paying them any attention.
“Can we go now?” I ask Jen, who nods, quiet for once as she walks toward me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did. I might not have given you all the details, but I told you how much this town hated me. I wasn’t lying.”
“I never thought you were. I just thought maybe you looked at it through a teenage girl’s lens. They think everyone hates them.”
I nudge her shoulder and give her a sad smile. “And sometimes they’re right.”
She slips her hand through mine as we walk back to the car, but before we can climb in, a car pulls up behind us, blocking us in. I tense, knowing there’s going to be trouble. It follows me around like a bad fucking smell.
I groan when I see Officer Asshole get out of his car, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He pulls off the shades from where they’re hanging from the neck of his T-shirt as he looks me over from head to toe with a sneer.
“You need to move your car.”
“I don’t need to do fuck-all. You made sure of that, though, didn’t you bitch?” He slides the glasses up his face before he flips me off and struts inside, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jen snarls before yanking out her phone. Not me, though. I simply walk over to the car with a grin on my face. I press my hand to the hood and throw out some of my power. The alarm goes off. I take a step back and walk around to the passenger side of Jen’s car. I climb in, humming my intent quietly so nobody can hear.
I let my eyes drift closed as Jen rants on the phone over the shrill noise of the alarm. People are moving closer, acting like curious looky-loos. I see a couple more familiar faces now, but judging by their lack of reaction, they don’t recognize me. That said, I do look vastly different from the emo teenage version of myself. I picture what Asshole’s car looks like under the hood and imagine the engine getting hot. I focus on the heat, starting small, like a simple warm breath blown into cold hands, before I urge it to grow.
I concentrate as the heat begins to simmer and boil. My temples throb, and a thumping sensation in my head warns me I won’t be able to keep this up. I’d be able to do a lot more with practice. Magic is like a muscle that needs to be worked and trained until everything becomes second nature. If I push too hard now, I’ll hurt myself, and then I’ll leave myself vulnerable while I recover. With that thought in mind, I send another surge of electricity through the car and pull back, frying all the electronics, leaving only the alarm functioning as it should, though that has taken on a shriller tone. Of course, that could just be the headache that is now fully formed, making me squint. Feeling a tickle, I reach up and swipe at my nose. My fingers come away red.
“Crap.” I lean forward and pop open the glove box, looking for something to stem the bleeding. I find a handful of papernapkins from a coffee place and hold them to my nose just as Jen climbs into the driver’s seat.
“I called the sheriff. I want this done by the book. If that little pissant thinks he’ll be back on the force after this, he is sadly mistaken. I know harassment when I see it.”
She turns to look at me, her livid expression morphing into concern. “Fuck. Are you okay?”
“Just a nosebleed. I’d say let’s just get the fuck out of here. Yet again, I’m bringing the best out in people.”
Jen sighs and leans back. “This is my fault. You can say it.”