The police officer and groundskeeper didn’t seem to notice us, and if they did, they didn’t stop us. We kept a casual pace until we were far enough away, then Oliver pushed me to walk faster. We made our way to another parking lot that was starting to stir.
People were pulling in to spend the day in the park, while others were leaving. Oliver decided to pick out the shadiest-looking guy in the parking lot to ask for a lift. He was short and thin. His t-shirt swallowed him, and his shorts were sagging onhis hips. He wore a bucket hat and looked as if he struggled to grow facial hair, which came in patches like a dog with mange.
“No way!” I hissed at Oliver.
“Why not? He doesn’t look like the type that would ask a lot of questions. Which is exactly the type we need.”
“Do you see his shirt? It saysFemale Body Inspectoron it. The guy is a total douche.”
He smirked and waved his hand through the air, dismissing my worries. “It’ll be fine. Come on.”
When we approached the guy, he was putting a tackle box into the trunk of his primer-gray car.
“Hey, buddy? Could we trouble you for a lift?” Oliver asked.
The guy nearly jumped out of his skin as he slammed the trunk closed and turned to face us.
“Me?” he asked, pointing at his chest. His bloodshot eyes were darting around, clearly paranoid.
Oliver’s brows knitted together. “Yeah. I mean, you don’t have to. We’re just looking for a ride. If you have some room for us, that is.”
The man looked from Oliver over to me. I watched his eyes as they slowly moved up and down my body, as a slow smile tugged at his lips.
“You need a ride too?” he asked me.
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the need to hide myself away from his prying eyes. I’d just taken a shower, but I already felt dirty.
“Yeah, both of us.” I nodded as I glared over at Oliver.
The man wiped the smile off his face. He licked his lips as he looked me over, and I could tell that he was fighting to keep that smirk away.
“What’ll you trade for it?”
I frowned.
“Trade?” I glanced at Oliver. “You mean, like you want some money?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t want money.”
“Then what do you want?” Oliver asked.
“I want a kiss from Princess Peach over here,” Creep-O said, running his tongue over the fronts of his crooked teeth
I immediately gagged, and Oliver stepped in front of me to block Creep-O’s view of me. “Not going to happen, buddy.”
“Why not? I’m not a bad guy or anything,” he said, defending himself.
“I’m not pimping out my girlfriend, bro,” Oliver threw back, all defensively.
I was instantly taken aback by the word girlfriend, but I pushed it out of my head a second later because what else was he going to call me? It’s not like he could call methe-girl-in-the-stolen-car-who-ran-me-and-my-stolen-car-off-the-road, now could he?
“A nice guy wouldn’t even ask something like that,” I said, standing on my tiptoes so he could only see my eyes from over Oliver’s shoulder.
“Fine,” Creep-O said. “I just want to touch her hair.”
“Touch her hair?” Oliver questioned.
“Touch my hair?” I said at the exact same instant.
