A Second Savior

Holy shit, Ashley Woodsen was hot. An unappreciated beauty in some respects, considering how Heather and Sienna garnered the most attention for their looks around school, but, in that moment, Leon Griffin had to concede that Ashley Woodsen could rival either of them. He watched, admiring, as she slid off the back of his motorcycle, her petite form drenched in his spare leather jacket, and shook out her long blonde hair when she pulled off the helmet he’d loaned her. Passing him the helmet and smoothing out her hair with both hands, she smiled when she saw him staring.

“I bet getting a girl to sit on your crotch rocket has been a big fantasy of yours,” she teased him, choosing her words intentionally.

“What? You think you’re my first?” He replied just as suggestively, while stepping off the bike as well. “Big Red has seen many a girl’s butt rest upon its leather.”

“Oh, so then it’s just me that’s the fantasy then,” she said, swaying back and forth in the oversized jacket, her hands almost hidden by the long sleeves. It was almost too warm to wear a jacket, but she liked the way it felt, and liked even more the way Leon looked at her with it on. “I bet you never thought I’d spread my legs for Big Red.”

“Big Red tends to have that affect on women. I haven’t met a single one who’s been able to say no yet,” he said, only somewhat joking. The truth was that having a motorcycle did indeed help him draw a good deal of female attention. Some girls thought just owning it made him a bad boy, while others were drawn in by the thrill of what they considered a ‘dangerous’ vehicle. “How did you enjoy your first ride?”

“Well, it was a couple of years ago. Hannah had just left for college and my parents were on a date night. I texted Brandon to say I was home alone and he – oh, wait, you meant on a motorcycle?” Ashley pretended to misunderstand, then asked, earnestly, “What makes you think it was my first time on a bike?”

“You think I can’t tell a first-timer? The way you held onto my waist, squeezing just a liiiittle too tight when you thought I didn’t have control, that’s the first dead giveaway.” He swaggered up to her and put his hands on her hips. “Unless…there was another reason you were holding on so tight?”

She shoved him away with two hands clad in large leather cuffs, smirking at his boldness. Turning towards the alleyway he’d parked next to, she waved him on to follow. “Come on, let’s do what we came here for already.”

“Sure, change the subject, that’ll convince me,” he continued to joke as he fell inline beside her, walking down the wide back alley, broad enough for a lorry to pass through. Leon looked around, but found no evidence that it was anything more than a typical, boring alleyway. “So, what are we doing here anyway?”

“Well, if we’re gonna have a party, the main thing we need is ****, and lots of it,” Ashley explained, confidently continuing straight ahead. “I think a couple of kegs should do it.”

“Alright, but isn’t the off-license down the block?” Leon asked, a little unsure. It had been rather easy to figure out where everything was in Azure Rocks even after the relatively short time he’d lived here, but there were still some parts that were unknown to him, such as where this alleyway led.

“It is, but we can’t just walk in there and buy a keg. I don’t have a fake ID. Before she skipped town, I just used Hannah’s.” Seeing Leon’s mouth open, Ashley quickly added, “Don’t ask.”

“I don’t really have to ask. It was already on the news that the police were looking for Hannah Woodsen and monitoring the ways out of Azure Rocks. I was going to ask how you’re coping,” Leon explained, wondering if he was overstepping his bounds. He and Ashley weren’t really friends, not yet, barely more than acquaintances, thrust together by a shared small town and a few class periods a week. “Instead, I’ll just, um, ponder loudly, to myself, where this alleyway goes.”

Ashley smiled gently, appreciating his humor and realizing she’d been a little short with him. “Sorry. I guess I’m still processing it really. A lot of the time it just feels like any normal day. Hannah isn’t here because she’s at college, and then I remember that’s not true. That Hannah is never coming back.” Her voice broke slightly and she swallowed hard, trying not to let the tears overwhelm her eyes. “Sometimes I’m just angry, because she brought this on herself, but then other times I can’t help but be sad because I’m still never going to see her again. I know, sometimes we fought, but I never wanted her to disappear completely.” Her face felt red and she looked away from him. “It’s like that _Labyrinth film where the girl from Requiem For a Dream_ wishes her brother would go away, so David Bowie steals the baby, and then she realizes she didn’t really want him gone completely. Except there’s no big adventure that will bring Hannah back. There’s no happy ending for this story.”

“Wow,” Leon said, struggling for something to say in reply. “That’s…uh…that’s rough. I mean, I wish I could say it’d get better…but…”

“It’s okay. It is what it is. Like I said, sometimes it’s tougher to face that truth than others,” Ashley confessed, rubbing the water, that definitely wasn’t tears, from her eyes. “Anyway, to answer your second question, we’re going to McGinn’s Tavern.”

“McGinn’s Tavern? But that’s…” He looked around, trying to find the direction of the main street.

“The front of the bar is on the street side, but Mr. McGinn, well, he doesn’t really care who he sells to, and he’s not really a stickler for rules, so, he runs his own little known off-license out of the back of the bar,” Ashley revealed, as they came upon a large alcove within the alleyway.

On one side was a large iron door, the red paint that once adorned it now faded and flaking. Next to that old door was a loading bay, blocked off by a wide aluminium shutter, padlocked on the inside. There was no indication on the outside that it had anything to do with McGinn’s Tavern, but when Ashley rapped three times upon the door, a moment later ole Mr. McGinn appeared, disgruntled and grumpy as ever.

“Yeah?” He asked, eyeing the pair with casual suspicion. “Whatda ya kids want?”

“****,” Ashley said simply, having learned a long time ago that the way into Mr. McGinn’s good graces was to pay for something, and not beat around the bush about it.

“You got cash?” He asked bluntly again, making sure the risk was worth it.

“Yep.”

“Lots of it?”

Yep.”

“Why didn’t ya say so?” He beamed, hurrying back inside with the energy of a much younger man.

The iron door slammed shut and seconds later the shutter next door rose up, revealing a chilled room lined with refrigerators and iceboxes, all number of bottles, cans and kegs stored away, set aside from the bar’s main stock down in the basement for an occasion such as this where a wandering traveler wanted to avoid the scrutiny that came from a more legit business place.

“Whatda ya looking for?” he inquired as he lifted a clipboard from atop an empty keg nearby.

“Two half barrels,” Ashley requested, still looking around at all the ****. She’d never actually been around the back of McGinn’s before, only hearing about it second hand from Hannah.

“Keg?” He repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Ya got ID for that?”

“Um…no…I thought I wouldn’t um…” Ashley slowly looked around at the old man, having never heard those words pass from his lips before, and now very concerned.

“A beer or a cocktail, here or there, I can overlook,” Walter McGinn grumbled, slumping his shoulders as he quickly resigned himself to having wasted his time. “But I can’t rent out a keg without some kind of paperwork.” He pointed his pencil at Leon. “Whatda bout ya, kid? Ya got ID?”

Leon went stiff at being addressed so abruptly and shook his head firmly.

Walter sighed. “Well, I can’t help ya kids. Technically I’m supposed to card both of ya, but I’d overlook it if at least one of ya had identification.” He shrugged, clearly not willing to risk his business over two kegs for two kids. “As it is-”

“What if you use my ID?”

All three heads whipped around to see a man with messy, dirty blonde hair and a beard that shimmered with a tinge of red in the sunlight approaching. He was wearing boots, jeans and a faded white tee, all stained with grease and oil, the smell of gasoline following him around like cologne. By his outward appearance, he might have seemed dangerous, were it not for his dark brown eyes full of kindness and compassion, unlike his sister’s.

“Carl!” Ashley greeted him happily. “How’s Sharon?”

“Super bummed. My regular receptionist at the Auto Shop bailed for a week. I couldn’t get anyone else to fill in, so I had to ask Sharon. Bitch made me beg, but to her credit she did it, and she’s doing a mighty fine job at that. Don’t tell her I said that though.” Carl laughed as he stepped up between Ashley and Walter. “She’s done nothing but complain every minute of it though, says she’s wasting her Spring Break.”

“I don’t know who I feel worse for. Her having to work through Spring Break or you having to put up with her,” Ashley joked along with him, noticing Leon frown out of the corner of her eye.

“Yeah, about the only person who’s happy she’s there is Matt,” Carl agreed.

“Ya can catch up later,” Walter insisted, folding his arms as he looked pointedly at the new arrival. “You said you’d put up an ID for the kegs?”

“Sure,” Carl agreed readily as he reached into his pocket and produced his driver’s license from his wallet. Looking at Ashley, he asked, “I assume this is for the party tomorrow? Sharon’s been demanding the day off to go.”

“Yeah, they were, but listen,” Ashley grimaced guilty at implicating Carl in their illegal procurement of ****. “You don’t need to do this. We can figure something else out.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Carl said, as he signed the form that Walter thrust under his nose. “It’s Spring Break. You guys should have fun. Consider it my present to Sharon, for all of her hard work.”

“Then you and Matt should definitely come up to the cabin and join the party. If anyone deserves a beer it’s the guy who kept the party from being dry,” Ashley acquiesced, but she wasn’t going to let him get away without getting some kind of reward.

“You know, we might just do that,” Carl said with a grin, allowing his eyes to roam over the small blonde’s tight body, much to Leon’s displeasure.

“Alright, after ya pay ya pick up the kegs tomorrow morning,” Walter informed the teens, before looking at Carl. “Was there some ya wanted for yaself, Miller?”

“Nope, in fact, I have something for you,” He tossed the old man a pair of car keys. “Your Impala is in working order. Just had to clean the fuel injectors.”

“An Impala?” Leon raised his eyebrows. He was more of a motorbike man, but some cars were just too good not to appreciate. “What year?”

“1968 convertible,” Carl answered for Walter. “Great little classic car. Very well kept.”

“It wasn’t even mine. It belonged to my brother,” Walter explained stiffly, clearly uncomfortable sharing personal details. “When he died, it was bequeathed to me and, well, looking after it feels like looking after a part of him.”

“Aw, that’s really sweet, Mr. McGinn,” Ashley cooed, having never seen that side of the old man before.

“Yes, well, hmmm,” he cleared his throat loudly and looked for a way out of the conversation. “Are ya gonna pay for these kegs or what?”

Ashley did indeed pay for the beer and put down the deposit on the kegs. Saying their goodbyes to Carl, she and Leon left the way they came. She noticed, however, that this time Leon was oddly silent, not making any jokes, and barely talking at all, just walking, a little quicker than before as if he were in a hurry to leave that place, and staring straight ahead. By the time they reached the bike and Leon still hadn’t said a work, Ashley worked up the courage to confront him herself.

“Okay, what’s the problem?” She asked.

“There’s no problem,” Leon insisted, unconvincingly.

“Bullshit. I’ve been Brandon’s girlfriend for long enough to recognize that sullen pout when a boy is upset,” she said, folding her arms defiantly. “So, before we go anywhere else, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing, it’s just…I didn’t like seeing you flirting with other guys, okay? I know I have no right to feel that way. This is barely a date and I’m not your boyfriend. I’m not anything,” he lamented, walking around in a circle as he was were going to leave but had nowhere to go. “I just didn’t like it.”

Grinning, Ashley admitted, “yeah, I figured, I saw your face when you noticed him staring.”

“Then why did you make me say it?”

“Because I hoped you’d realize how silly you sound. Guys look at me all the time and I can’t help it. I’m with Brandon still, right?” She said, keeping up the pretense. “So, even you looking at me shouldn’t be happening. Right now, you and Carl are in the same boat. You’re not rivals, you’re kindred spirits, lusting after the taken girl.”

“When you say it like that, it does sound stupid to be jealous of Carl. Brandon is the one I should still be jealous of,” Leon agreed, rubbing his head, as if he could simply massage the dumbness away, while Ashley smiled, knowing that Brandon wasn’t even a worthy target of his envy. Brushing past his mistake, his asked, “Okay, so what’s next?”

She caught the helmet he threw to her, and asked, “Have you ever heard of Captain’s Cove?”