“Um, hey CH… I thought you said we were going to win. Doesn’t that mean we should be in front of the Greasers by now?” Inari asked, popping her bubblegum and twirling her hair as Touchdown, their golden retriever, lay napping at her feet.
“Don’t worry about it, babe,” SmoothCriminal said, his feet on the dashboard of CrestHawk’s ’57 Chevy. “The Hawk’s got a plan. He’s always got a plan, am I right? Am I right?” SmoothCriminal grinned and raised his hand for a high-five but was left hanging.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” CrestHawk said, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
“Not one of your strongest suits, bro,” SmoothCriminal said laughing. He turned his head toward Inari in the backseat but she wasn’t laughing. She was just staring off into space, humming and twirling her hair.
“Hey! Isn’t that the Greaser car?” Inari said snapping out of her daze. CrestHawk saw the car, too, and he quickly turned into the parking lot and slammed on the breaks. “Jeez!” Inari shrieked, still popping her bubblegum. “All I did was ask a question! Just because you’re Prom King and the star Quarterback and Captain of the – “
“Wait a sec, babe!” SmoothCriminal interrupted. “I think he’s got a plan.”
“Ugh! How many times do I have to tell you not to call me babe?! Other girls may think it’s cute but I know it’s just because you can’t remember their names!” Inari accused.
“What can I say?” SmoothCriminal said, folding his hands behind his head, “I’m a chick-magnet!”
Inari smacked him in the back of the head sending him into a fit of laughter. CrestHawk was still deep in thought, staring at the Greaser roadster parked outside of a tourist trap called “Home of the World’s Largest Meatloaf.” Suddenly he hopped out of the car and walked straight towards the hotrod and lifted the hood. Inari and SmoothCriminal exchanged worried looks and ran after him.
“Dude, what are you doing?” SmoothCriminal asked.
“Yeah, CH!” Inari chimed in. “What’s the big idea?”
“Just evening the score a little,” CrestHawk said with a sly grin as he tinkered with the engine. “We’re the jocks - we are born winners. We can’t be beat by a bunch of grease monkeys! They called us squares, remember? So not cool!” He turned back to the car and laughed to himself a little. “And who said we couldn’t have a little bit of fun on this roadtrip? There,” he said as he slammed down the hood, “that should take care of them for a while!”
“See, babe? I told you The Hawk always has a plan!” SmoothCriminal said as they turned back towards their car.
“Aaagh! Don’t call me babe!!” Inari got into the backseat, crossed her arms and let Touchdown crawl up next to her.
“What? What did I say?” SmoothCriminal whispered, glancing as CrestHawk as their fearless leader started the car. CrestHawk just smiled at him and shook his head.
SmoothCriminal put his feet back up on the dashboard and folded his hands behind his head as he let out an exasperated “Women!”
The baby blue Chevy raced out of the parking lot and onto the road, leaving the Greasers behind with an unpleasant surprise.
