Free Outside by Nicole Sewell

seatbelt. “I’ll just be a minute unless you want something. A drink? Candy? Smokes?”
    Alaina shakes her head. “No thank you. I don’t smoke.”
    Smiling, I nudge her arm with my elbow. “I know. I’m joking.” I open the door. “Relax, Alaina. Don’t take everything so seriously.”
    I get out and go inside. The cashier greets me and I head for the back corner of the store where they keep the ice. Taking a bag, I move toward the checkout. My eyes land on the candy rack and something occurs to me. Alaina has probably never had candy. There’s probably a ton of things she’s never had and a million things she’s never seen. I would have gone crazy growing up in a place like she did. Just the thought of being walled in makes my skin crawl.
    This girl has some catching up to do. And it’s going to start with sampling all the best candy QuikTrip has to offer.
    As I’m pulling bags of candy off the rack, the front door opens.
    “Evening, Larry,” the cashier calls.
    “Evening.”
    Shit. I’d know that fucker’s voice anywhere. Officer Larry Motherfucking Patterson. The biggest asshole on the Sugarloaf police force, and Brittany’s father.
    He stands behind me. I can feel him staring at my back with his beady gray eyes.
    Reluctantly, I turn and face him.
    “Well, well, well,” he says, putting his hands on his belt.
    Larry is a good four inches shorter than me. He lifts his chin and puffs out his chest to make himself appear bigger.
    “Officer Patterson,” I say unenthusiastically.
    “Getting some snacks?” His reddish mustache twitches under his nose.
    “Snacks? Nah. These are offerings for the demonic summoning ritual we’re having tonight. Couldn’t find any real kids to sacrifice, so these Sour Patch Kids will have to do.” I lean forward a little and whisper, “I’m sure the devil won’t mind.”
    Patterson’s face goes red and he draws himself up as tall as he can. “You have a real attitude problem, Grayson, you know that? A real issue with authority.”
    I shrug. “Sue me.” My eyes dart past him to the cashier who’s checking her phone. “Gotta go.” I step around him.
    “Disrespectful little shit,” he spits, turning on his heel to march off toward the Krispy Kreme donut case.
    I pay for everything and leave as quickly as I can without looking like I’m running away. As soon as I get outside, I spot his car parked right next to mine. He probably followed me here. Or saw my car as he was driving by and decided to come in to harass me.
    Fighting the urge to throw my bag of ice through his front windshield, I go around to my driver’s side door and open it. “Here,” I say, passing Alaina the white plastic bag full of candy before I drop the bag of ice on the floor next to her feet.
    She opens the bag and peeks inside as I start the car. “What is it?” She pulls out the Sour Patch Kids.
    “Those are the shit,” I say, backing out of the parking space. “You ever had them?”
    Shaking her head, she hesitates before placing them back in the bag as I take a left onto Satellite Boulevard. “I’ve never had any of this. What is it?”
    “Candy. You’ll love it,” I say. “Try something.”
    She cautiously picks through the M&M’s, Skittles, and random candy bars. “We made candy in Shiloh on rare occasions. Usually after someone brought sugar back from a mission trip since we couldn’t grow it in our gardens. Elder Stedman’s wife made it.” In the glow from my dashboard, I see her smile. “I never really liked it much. It tasted like dried toothpaste. I didn’t know candy could come in any other flavor.” She pulls out a bag of Peanut M&M’s and looks to me, biting her lower lip, like she’s waiting for permission.
    “Go for it,” I say. “You’re not allergic to nuts or nothing, are you?”
    Shaking her head, she carefully tears the corner open and pours a few into her palm. I’m so wrapped up in watching her, I barely notice the blue lights flashing in