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CHAPTER 7
Walking to the grocery store is getting old. I took the bus to the mall. It was an adventure I have no desire to repeat any time soon. The driver seemed to have stepped directly out of a zombie flick. We’re lucky we didn’t all die on the way over here. Now, I’m stranded at the mall, camped out in a little café with my laptop, scouring Craigslist for a cheap car.
“Hey Kerry!” I look up to see Beth across the hallway, waving at me. I smirk and wave back. She runs over and takes the seat across from me. Beth has a lot more money than I do and the shopping bags to prove it. “What are you doing?”
“Shopping for a car.”
“You don’t need a car.” I glance up at her and give her an expression that says she’s nuts. “I meant, you don’t need your own car. You can borrow my stylish soccer mom car whenever you want.”
I’m touched; I really am, especially since she has a nice new car. But I can’t be a leech like that. “Thanks, Beth, but I think I need my own set of wheels. I need a job.” I at least need a temporary job—and before next Tuesday night, so I don’t have to be the damned figure-drawing model. How stupid am I? I didn’t think professors did things like that to students, but what do I know?
“Oh,” she scoots around and looks over the screen with me. “What about that one?”
“It’s too much money. It has to be under a thousand.”
Beth gives me a smile. “It is under a hundred thousand.”
“Ha, ha, very funny.” I look up and can tell from the look on Beth’s face she isn’t joking. “I meant under a grand. I only have a couple thousand bucks in the bank and it has to last me until the end of the semester.”
Beth’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. “Are you serious?” I nod. “Your parents aren’t going to send you more money?”
A bitter laugh jumps out before I can stop it. “Uh, no. They’re not like that. It’s okay, Beth. I can handle this as long as I can find something that runs. This one looks good. It just popped up.” The ad says it’s for an old VW Bus. I smile at the screen. I’ve always thought those were cool in a hippie sort of way. I could paint big flowers on the sides and get a fuzzy steering wheel cover.
Beth nods slowly. “It gets good gas mileage, too. Well, good for a van.” I give her a strange look, not expecting a rich girl to know crap about cars. “I know stuff,” she says, offended.
Smiling at her, I nod. “I see that. Do you know how to change a flat?”
She offers a sharp smile and nods. “Do you know how to change the oil?”
“Touché,” I laugh. “I won’t make rich girl assumptions anymore.”
“I’m not rich.” Beth is leaning in close to the computer screen when she says it, trying to read the listing.
“Where are your glasses?” It’s just a hunch, but I’ve noticed she holds
everything up to her nose to read, so it’s kind of obvious by now.
She backs up and smiles sheepishly at me. “In my room.”
“Why aren’t they on your face?”
“Oh, God, you sound like my mother. They’re stupid, that’s why. I can’t wear contacts and the glasses are Coke bottles. I look like a lunatic with them on.”
“You look kind of crazy trying to make out with my laptop. The glasses can’t be that bad.” She sneers at me. “Oh, come on.”
“Fine, if you can actually look at them and tell me that with a straight face, I’ll wear them.”
She’s made this bet before. I can tell from her smug expression and tiny smile. “Deal, and you’re wearing them when you’re driving.”
“I don’t need them for driving.”
“How do you read the signs?”
She laughs. “Yeah, I don’t read signs.” No kidding. This explains her mad driving skills. I bet she can barely see the lines on the road.
“I noticed.” I glance at her, and send the guy who owns the van a message. Beth and I chat for a few more moments. While we chat, the van owner responds with a list of recent repairs, including new tires and a new starter. There’s a picture of it in a grassy lot, flanked by several other vehicles. It looks rust-free. Score. “I’m going to call him. Will you drive me to pick it up, if I buy it?”
“Psh, like you have to ask?” She leans in close to the screen while I walk away with the phone next to my ear.
