Carlson Melody: Stealing Bradford

Taylor made a face and pointed her nose in the air. “Yes, I can see why.” She laughed. “But once you’re cleaned up, I’d love to hear all about it.”

Fat chance , thought DJ as she opened the door.

“And then I’ll tell you about my little surprise…”

DJ turned and looked at Taylor. “What kind of surprise?”

“Go, get cleaned up, and then come down and I’ll show you. I might even take you for a ride.”

“A ride?” DJ frowned. “Don’t tell me you have a car too?”

Taylor gave her a sly look. “Even better.”

WELL, MAY BE DJ WAS A SUCKER,but Taylor had her hooked. Now, despite her anger at Conner, she was curious. She hurried to take a shower and then put on outfit that she knew Taylor would approve, combed her damp hair into a ponytail, and put on a little lip gloss and mascara. She was glad that Casey wasn’t around, since she suspected Casey would give her a bad time for “primping,” although this seemed pretty minimal compared to the time that Taylor and Eliza took. She wondered where Casey was; hopefully, not getting into trouble or beat up by the thug girls.

DJ hurried downstairs to where Taylor was still sitting on the porch. “So, you are interested?” said Taylor.

DJ tried to act casual. “Maybe…”

“Come on,” said Taylor as she hopped out of the whicker chair and headed down the steps. “It’s in back.”

DJ followed, and just as they turned the corner back by the garage, she saw it parked off to one side. “No way!” she shouted as she stared at the lime green Vespa. “Is that really yours?”

Taylor grinned. “Yep. My daddy had it shipped to me. It was supposed to be for the first day of school, but it got here after we left.”

“Do you know how to drive it?”

“Of course. My boyfriend in LA had one. He let me use it. I’d been begging my mom for one, but she kept freaking that I’d get in a wreck and kill myself. Part of the deal for coming here was that I’d get one. She made Dad buy it for me.”

“Man, you are so lucky,” said DJ. “I love Vespas.”

“Wanna take a spin?”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“Is it okay? I mean do we need helmets?”

“Yeah, but we’ll just go around the neighborhood, and I won’t go too fast.” Taylor was already getting on it. “Come on.”

So DJ climbed on behind her. “Do you need a special license?” she asked.

“I have a driver’s license,” said Taylor as she started the engine. “Hang on.” Then she gunned it, and DJ had to grab her to avoid flying off the back end.

“Careful!” warned DJ as Taylor took a sharp corner.

“Woo-hoo!” yelled Taylor as she shot down the street.

And, once DJ got used to it, she had to admit, it really was fun. Of course, she didn’t want to admit that she was jealous—lime green jealous. Why was it that Taylor always came out on top? She wasn’t even a Christian. Still, DJ pushed these thoughts away as they breezed through town like a couple of celebrities. Seriously, who would’ve thought that by the end of the day, DJ would be sitting behind Taylor, flashing around on a Vespa?

Then, just as Taylor was turning off Main Street, DJ heard the sound of a siren behind them. Not a long whine, but just a couple of little pops. She looked back to see a patrol car directly behind them. The cop made a gesture that was unmistakable. “Uh-oh,” she said to Taylor. “I think that cop wants you to pull over.”

Taylor used a bad word, and then pulled over and they both got off. “Hello, officer,” said Taylor in a sweet voice. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Several things,” he said.

“Oh…” She made a sad face. “I’m sorry. I just got this Vespa today, and I guess I wasn’t being as careful as I should.”

He nodded. “For starters, both you girls should be wearing helmets.”

“Really?” Taylor blinked in surprise. “Well, I’m from out of state, so I don’t know all your laws yet.”

“License and vehicle registration, please?”

Taylor slapped her jeans’ back pocket and made an alarmed face that looked so phony that DJ almost laughed. “Oh, man,” she exclaimed, “I was so excited about taking my friend for a spin…I must’ve left my license at home. We live at the Carter House, and if you want I could go get it and—”

“Tell you what.” He pulled out what looked like a ticket book. “You give me your name and address and I’m going to write you up a warning this time. But if you ever get stopped again—without a helmet, license, and registration—you will be getting a big citation and a nice little fine. You understand?”

“Oh, you’re so kind,” she said with a big smile. “You know, I always heard bad things about policemen back where I used to live, but I think Crescent Cove must have the most helpful ones in the country. It’s really refreshing.”

He smiled now. “Just don’t let me down, little lady.”

She shook her head. “No, I definitely won’t.” Then she gave him her name and information. DJ was relieved that she didn’t try to lie to him about that. She’d seen that in a movie before, and it seemed a dumb idea.

“Now, I want you to drive your scooter nice and slow back to your house. Don’t go over ten miles an hour, you hear?” Then he pointed at DJ. “And I’m going to have to ask you to walk home.”

DJ frowned. “Walk?”

“That’s right. Do you realize that I could be writing you up a ticket too?”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah…it’s your responsibility to have a helmet if you’re riding behind someone.” He tapped her on the forehead now. “And it’s your head, young lady, you might want to watch out for it.”

“All right,” she said, nodding. “I got ya.”

“Good.”

“Sorry,” said Taylor as she swung a long leg over the Vespa and turned it on.

“See ya,” called DJ as Taylor slowly pulled away, even using her turn signal as she slowed for the corner. The policeman nodded as if he was impressed.

Then DJ started walking home—for the second time today. As if she hadn’t had enough exercise! And, if she thought she’d been hungry earlier today, now she was running on fumes. Not only that, but at this rate, she would probably be late for dinner, and she didn’t even have her cell phone to call her grandmother. And she could’ve gotten a bite in town—something full of carbs and fats—but she didn’t even have her bag. If DJ didn’t know better, she’d think that Taylor had planned this whole thing. Maybe she had. Maybe this was just a big setup. Taylor probably had connections with the local cops and had orchestrated that they would arrive just as—then DJ jumped as the sound of a beeping horn startled her back into reality.

“Hey, DJ,” called Conner from the driver’s seat of a red pickup on the other side of the street. “Need a lift?”

She frowned as she considered this. She really wanted a ride—would love a ride—with anyone but Conner Alberts.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Please,” he begged. “I really want to talk to you, DJ.”

She looked at his old Chevy pickup and, despite herself, smiled. It was actually a really cute rig in a funky old-fashioned way, and she’d thought it was sweet that Conner and his dad had been working to restore it. Also, her feet were seriously tired now.

“Okay,” she said with an air of reluctance. “Just this once.” Then she checked for cars, dashed across the street, and hopped in. “The only reason I agreed to this is because I’m starving and if I’d walked home I’d be late for dinner.”

“You’re starving?” he said hopefully.

“Yeah, I sort of missed lunch.”