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The Extraordinary Life of Sam Hell(79)

Author:Robert Dugoni

“No wheels for me, sport. My dad grounded me. Long story.”

“Is someone picking you up?”

“Fat chance. When I’m grounded, I’m walking. It’s my dad’s way of punishing me. He says that maybe the exercise will clear my brain.”

“Where do you live?”

“It’s not far. I live in Hillsborough, just a couple miles.”

Without thinking I said, “I’ll give you a ride.”

“You sure it’s not out of your way?”

It was the opposite direction. “No problem at all.”

Donna touched my arm, and it sent an electric pulse across my skin. “Like I said, polite and cute.”

Inside the Falcon, Donna asked, “Can we put the top down?”

Though it was a bit chilly, I happily obliged. Other than Mickie and my mom, I’d never been alone in the Falcon with a girl. I hoped someone I knew would drive up and see me, the devil boy, with a high school senior riding in my car.

Hillsborough was a wealthy neighborhood with large homes, sweeping driveways, and expansive lawns. We made several turns, and I knew I would be hopelessly lost trying to get back home.

“Turn here,” Donna said. I drove between two brick pillars leading to a driveway that curved past a manicured garden with English hedges, rosebushes, and other plants I couldn’t name. I stopped the car beneath an impressive colonnade for a two-story stucco home. “What does your father do?”

“You mean when he’s not on my case or grounding me? He’s a big-shot lawyer.”

“What about your mom?”

“She pretty much plays golf and cards at the country club all day. At night she drinks.”

The statement hit me like a slap. I didn’t know what to say.

Donna flipped her hair. “Do you party, Sam?”

I hadn’t even had a beer up to that point. “When I can,” was all I could muster.

“It’s such a double standard. My mom is shit-faced half the time, and if I party, my father grounds me. How is that fair?” I recognized her question to be rhetorical. “Well, thanks for the ride,” she said and exited the car, but rather than run up the steps, Donna walked around to the driver’s side and rested her forearms on the door. Her shirt fell open, and her cleavage swallowed the silver chain and medal.

“Do you know how to get out of here?” I raised my eyes. Donna grinned. “You just take a right out of the driveway, turn left at the first stop sign, go one block, take another left, and follow the road back to the El Camino.”

I nodded, but I doubted I would remember a single word. Then Donna leaned forward and kissed me hard on the mouth, her tongue forcing my lips apart, probing. Before I could even decide how to respond, she pulled back, smiling. Then she winked. “See you, sport.”

Struck dumb, I watched her bound up the steps and disappear through the front door.

When I got home, my mother was finishing setting the table for dinner. She’d started to wait for me and my dad to get home so we could all eat together.

“What took you?” she asked.

“I gave Donna a ride home.” I quickly added, “She didn’t have a car and was going to have to walk, and it was getting dark.”

“That’s nice.” She pulled open the fridge and retrieved the milk. “Wash your hands.”

As I washed my hands at the bathroom sink, my mind drifted back to Donna’s cleavage and her warm, moist lips pressed against mine, her tongue exploring.

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