Copyright © 2009
All rights reserved, The Wild Rose Press
From “Society Girl” by Dara Edmondson…
“I’m so dead.” After cutting the engine of the brand new candy-apple-red BMW, I glanced across the seat at my BFF, Abby. “My folks are gonna skin me alive.” Hanging my head, I tried to rub away the pounding pain at my temples.
“It’s just a scratch.” Abby reached into the back seat to get her beach bag. “Maybe you can have it fixed before they even see it.”
I stared at her, hoping she was right. “There’s that place on Village Road,” I said. “The Crash Doctors, something like that. Think they could slap a little paint over it on our way home?” I ran a finger over the smooth leather covering the steering wheel, thought about how my dad pampered this car. What had I been thinking to take it when I knew he’d forbidden me to drive it?
Abby sucked her lips into her mouth that way she does when she doesn’t quite buy something.
“What?” I crossed my fingers, wanting to believe my parents wouldn’t find out that I’d not only used my dad’s new car, but that I’d scratched the heck out of the driver side door at the bank drive through. I was so beyond dead. Why hadn’t we taken Abby’s car?
“You remember when that cleaning lady my mom used to have rear-ended my dad’s Porsche?”
I nodded, although I had no memory of such an event.
“Well,” Abby went on, “Mom brought it to a place in Bristol and they took like a week to fix it.”
I shook my head. My parents would be back from New York tonight. No way could the repair take that long. “But this is only a scratch, you said so yourself. All they have to do is slap a little paint on it, right?”
She lifted a blonde eyebrow before diverting her gaze. “I guess.”