“Come on,” said Derek, “it’s early! It’s barely ten o’clock! Corey’s got more beer in his bag, let’s make this a party!”
I looked at Corey, standing so quietly in the back, and realized that he had a backpack I hadn’t seen, hidden in the silhouette of his jacket. He stood a moment, watching us, then slowly shrugged the pack off and handed it to Derek. Was he looking at me or at Marci? Whichever it was, his eyes didn’t leave us for a second.
“Beer!” shouted Derek, and he cracked one open, sucking the suds off the top of the can when it foamed. Paul took another can from the pack and offered it to Marci, but she declined. He held it out to me, and I shook my head.
“Suit yourself,” he said, and he cracked it open.
Derek was chugging his entire can, which was now sticking straight up in the air above his mouth. He gulped it down loudly, then tilted his head down to look at us, smiling broadly. He belched and threw the can to the side, then went immediately for another.
I kept having to remind myself, over and over, that they didn’t mean us harm, that they were just three dumb guys out looking for fun in a small town. I’d grown up in a small town and I knew how boring they could get. Drinking stolen beer at the old drive-in might literally be the most interesting part of their entire week—or least it would have been, if we weren’t here. We were a novelty. Given the opportunity, they’d hang out with us all night. I couldn’t allow that, but I didn’t know how to stop it without starting a fight.
“It’s no fun unless you drink with us,” said Paul, sipping his beer more moderately.
“But they’re not with us,” said Corey. He didn’t seem to speak often, but when he did it was simple and to the point. “They’re just here, purely by chance, and tomorrow they’ll be somewhere else.”
“All the more reason to drink right now,” said Derek, opening his second can. “Man, I wish I was like you guys—free to go anywhere, do anything, just screw all the responsibilities and jobs and whatever the hell other stuff the rest of us are stuck with.” He took a long pull on his beer, then pointed to me with his fingers wrapped around the can. “I bet you just steal stuff all the time, right? Like, whatever you need—pies off windowsills and Doritos off the shelf at a truck stop—because who’s gonna find you? They look up and you’re gone, and you’re never going to see those idiots again.”
“And no one ever sees him again,” said Corey. “Or her.”
They’re not here to hurt us, I told myself again.
“That’s a good point,” said Paul, his speech slightly slurred. Either he’d already been drinking or he didn’t hold his liquor well. “How does this work, like, mechanically? Do you choose where you go? Darcy said she picked this place on purpose—”
“Marci,” said Derek.
“Marci,” Paul corrected himself. “Why come here instead of just going where the cars take you? Like, how does hitchhiking work? Do you ask them to take you somewhere?”
“Have a beer,” said Derek, handing another can to Marci.
“No thank you,” she said again. Her voice was thin and even; she was as uncomfortable as I was.
“Come on,” said Derek, “a hot girl like you needs to loosen up.” He stepped toward her. “Let me help you take that backpack off, it looks way heavy.”
I stepped forward quickly, inserting myself between them, and Derek backed off, holding up his hands in innocence.
“Sorry, wow, touched a nerve there. Didn’t mean to move in on your girlfriend.”
“Please,” Marci whispered, and I knew she was talking to me. Don’t start anything.
“Do you coordinate with somebody?” asked Paul, oblivious to the mounting tension. “Like, does somebody know what route you’re taking? Or is it literally just ‘go where the wind takes you’? Like, does anyone even know where you are?”
“I doubt it,” said Corey.
“Then what the hell is your problem?” demanded Derek, suddenly angry. Hadn’t she gotten him on our side? Weren’t they trying to impress her? Or had they already given up impressing her, and now it was time to punish her for not being interested?
Derek waved his hand at us, taking in our backpacks, our clothes, everything we had in the world. “A couple of homeless nobodies,” he said, “sleeping in the friggin’ Movie Time Theater, and you think you’re better than us? Can’t have a drink with us, can’t even talk to us? You act like you can’t wait for us to leave.”
“Can you blame him?” asked Corey, and this time I knew he was looking at Marci.
Paul giggled, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, as alert to the sudden danger as I would be to a cold breeze.