Taylor leaned up to the front passenger seat of the car and whispered in Desiree’s ear.
“If my mom calls your house, what’s your mom gonna tell her?”
Desiree turned her head toward the car window and spoke in an impatient undertone. “Your mom isn’t gonna call. But if she does, my mom will tell her we went to Sonic for a slush.”
“In the rain? After ten?” Taylor said.
In the driver’s seat, Dede glanced over her shoulder. “Hey! What’s going on over there?”
“Nothing,” Desiree said, giving Taylor a look of warning over her shoulder. “Everything’s good. ‘Sall cool.”
“How about you, Coco,” Dede said, catching Taylor’s eye with the rearview mirror. “Are you cool, baby?”
Taylor nodded and turned to stare at the raindrops spattering on the window of the back passenger door. Her knee jiggled, and she couldn’t make it stop. She wished she could see a familiar sight out the window, but it was too dark. And they’d been driving for at least half an hour.
Now it seemed like a bad idea to her. A really bad idea.
When she and Desiree had plotted their adventure during lunch in the school cafeteria, it sounded glamorous and daring. And they agreed that it was really fortunate that they could confide in Desiree’s mom; she was sympathetic to the plan.
Desiree’s mom had always cherished big dreams for her little girl. When Des was a little kid, they invested every spare dollar and every weekend they had in the kiddie pageant circuit.
Desiree told her that the pageant career ended when she hit adolescence and couldn’t bring home the trophies anymore; but her mom’s big dreams were revived when Desiree found a Backlist.com ad for Marvel Modeling. Kim Wickham believed in Desiree; she told the girls so.
Taylor’s mom, on the other hand, just didn’t get it.
When Breeon came into the living room and saw Taylor watching Project Runway, or reruns of America’s Top Model on cable, she laughed and changed the channel. When Taylor asked her mom to pick up a copy of Vogue at Barnes & Noble, Breeon returned empty-handed. Didn’t even apologize, just said she forgot.
Sneaking out with Desiree had sounded like fun, and the prospect had given her a thrilling sensation of finally pulling one over on her mom. Taylor’s mom was so bossy. Controlling.
But as she sat in the silent car on Friday night, listening to the flap of the windshield wipers, she wished with all her heart that she was home. With her bossy mom.
Taylor cleared her throat. “How long till we get to the audition?”
“Soon. Pretty soon.” Dede reached onto the dash and pulled a cigarette from a pack. “I’ll crack the window,” she said as she lit up.
Desiree said, “Hey, can I have one?”
“Sure. Help yourself.”
Taylor gasped. She’d never seen Desiree smoke before. The interior of the car soon filled with a cloud of cigarette smoke. She coughed, despite an effort to choke it back.
“That bothering you?” Dede said. “No problem, hon.” She rolled her window down and tossed the butt onto the highway.
When Desiree tried to follow suit, the wind blew the lit cigarette into the backseat, where it fell on Taylor’s bare arm. Shrieking, she knocked it to the floor.
Dede peered into the rearview mirror, causing the car to swerve into the left lane. “Fuck! Put it out. Are you burning a hole in the upholstery? This is Tony’s personal vehicle.”
The shrill voice in the front seat sent Taylor into an anxious hunt for the burning ember. She bent down to the floorboard, feeling for the cigarette with her hands. When she found it, she rolled the window down and flung it into the darkness.
Dede was cussing under her breath. The burn on Taylor’s forearm smarted; she cupped her hand over it. In the distance a lit sign appeared: it said EconoMo Motel.
“We’re here,” Dede said. Her voice was grim.
As they pulled into the parking lot of the motel, tears slipped down Taylor’s face.