Page 1 of First in Line

CHAPTER

ONE

Evangeline

The neon of the sign crackles, its electric buzzing fluctuating with the red glow I’m bathed in. With a sigh, I check the time on my phone again. It’s been an hour. I might as well have walked home by now.

But she said she’d be here soon. She promised.

When a car turns into the empty lot, I look up with a mix of hope and relief. The grin falls from my lips as soon as I realize this isn’t my mom’s car. Instead, it’s an electric blue car that looks like it was built to be fast but has seen better days. My attention remains on it as it pulls up a few spots from me, right by the liquor store’s entrance.

Two young men climb out, wearing all black, from the beanies on their heads to the boots on their feet, then walk inside the store, barely granting me a glance. They seem too young to buy alcohol, but it’s like everyone has fake IDs now, and the owner never passes up an opportunity to make a buck—even off of teenagers. A third man stays behind the wheel, and despite the surrounding darkness, I notice that he’s looking at me. I avert my gaze, staring down at my bare legs and white sneakers.I really should have walked home. It would have been safer than waiting by the town’s shadiest liquor store.

Shivering, I adjust my jean jacket around me. It’s officially too small, though I outgrew the bedazzled “Princess” on it a while ago. I’ll have to ask Mom if we can go to Goodwill so I can replace it with something warmer. Late in the evening like this, it’s cold. Too cold for the short skirt of my waitress uniform. I should have changed before leaving the diner, but the cook was drunk, and his not-so-subtle innuendos had me leaving as soon as my shift was over.

When I hear the car door open and close, I keep my eyes on the ground, hoping the driver will do as his friends and walk into the store. Instead, his steps come all the way to me, until I see his black boots appear in my field of view.

“Do you have a lighter?” he asks, his voice lower than I expected.

Still staring down, I stutter, “Wh-what?”

“A lighter.”

When he makes a gesture, I’m forced to look up. He’s wearing all black like his friends, but what I thought were beanies, as it turns out, are bunched-up ski masks. And his is pulled down completely, covering his entire face except his eyes and mouth.

Before I can wonder what’s happening and panic, a peculiar detail steals my focus.

I know him. Or I’m pretty sure I do. I’ve never been this close to him since he’s a year older and we don’t have classes together, but I’m fairly certain we go to the same high school. There aren’t that many people around here with eyes like that. One blue, one brown.

Because I still haven’t answered, he motions at the cigarette between his index and middle fingers, but my attention quickly returns to his unusual gaze.

“Oh, no, sorry, I don’t smoke,” I hurriedly answer.

“Hm, I figured. Too bad.” With casual gestures, he returns the cigarette to its packet and into the back pocket of his dark jeans.

“What’s in there?” he asks, pointing at the locket hanging around my neck.

Surprised that he even noticed it, I look down and instinctively touch it. “Oh, nothing.”

“No picture of a boyfriend or something?”

“It’s not for a picture, it’s to put something in it. But I can’t think of anything worth carrying around like this.” After a couple of seconds, I add, “And I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“I like it.”

“Thank you. I like your car.”

“Thanks. It’s a Subaru Impreza WRX. From 1995. Her name’s Winifred.”

“You named your car?”

“Of course. She’s an old lady, hence the name. But she’s still pretty fast.” Then, he casually wonders, “What are you doing out here so late?”

“Waiting for my mom. She’ll be here any minute now.”

“You work at the diner?”

I glance down at my attire, then up at him again. “What gave it away?”