Free Downers Grove by Michael Hornburg Page A

leaves. He blended in perfectly with the environment. He was so quiet at times I felt like he wasn’t even there. We both lay under the stars, watching the planes line up on the horizon, waiting to land at O’Hare.
    â€œMake a wish,” I said.
    â€œI wish I had a real car,” he said.
    â€œYou already have two cars.”
    â€œI’m tired of risking my neck in rebuilt wrecks scraped off the highway. That lawn mower might look impressive, but looks don’t win races.”
    â€œWell, if they did, you’d win every night,” I said.
    Bobby threw a stone up at the sky. “It won’t be long, you’ll see. I’ll be racing full-time with a sponsor. Once I get a faster car and start racing bigger tracks I’ll be winning bigger prizes. I’m tired of getting my ass kicked at Santa Fe.”
    Bobby was totally focused on drowning in his glamorous fate. Racing seemed like a life-or-death situation for him, as if tonight was just another speed bump on his yellow brick road.
    â€œIt’s probably just a matter of timing,” I said. “Somebody will need you, just like you need them.” My mechanic was getting melancholy, so I sat on top of his waist and pushed his shoulders down to the ground, then traced the outline of his lips with my fingertips.
    â€œIs this where you bring all your girls?” I asked.
    â€œYeah,” he said nonchalantly. “They’re all buried over there.” He nodded toward the weeds.

    I looked into the weeds. “You’re just kidding, right?” His hands crept under the folds of my sweater, over my T-shirt, and traced the outline of my bra. He rubbed me gently, his hands pressing my breasts. I leaned down and kissed him, slow slurpy kisses, running my fingers through his dirty hair. He rolled me over onto my back, pressed his lips to my earlobe. “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he whispered, then stood up and started to walk away.
    â€œHey wait a minute,” I said. “Where are you going?”
    â€œSsshhhh!” he disappeared behind some trees into the inky darkness. I could hear him rustling through the bushes, circling the perimeter. If he was trying to be creepy it was working. I heard footsteps approaching, so I grabbed a rock just in case.
    My mechanic crouched down beside me. “Close your eyes,” he said.
    â€œNo way,” I said.
    â€œClose your eyes!” he insisted.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œJust close them.”
    I looked at him and he was smiling. It wasn’t a dangerous smile, it was a fun smile, a smile I was willing to trust. “Okay,” I said and closed my eyes.
    He pressed his fingers between my lips and placed a wild raspberry into my mouth. The juice squirted over my lower lip and ran down my chin. We made out fiercely, an all-out face mosh. His hands roamed all over the map. My eyes clenched shut while he fumbled through the buttons of my sweater, one after another, finally pulling it over my shoulders. He reached under my T-shirt and unlatched my bra. It loosened around my shoulders. He kissed my breasts, his warmtongue spinning around my nipples, his lips gently sucking. I was about to die. He shifted farther down south and kissed my tummy, rimming my belly button. He started to unbutton my blue jeans, and that’s where I stopped him. It wasn’t easy. I felt like a field of dry grass caught in a lightning storm.
    â€œWhatsa matter?” he asked.
    â€œI’m not ready for a full-scale invasion.” I pulled his hair, lifted him up to my lips and kissed him. He pressed against me, his hips swaying like a snake, rubbing his crotch against mine. I squeezed my thighs around his leg.
    â€œDo you have any condoms?” I asked.
    â€œDon’t worry,” he said, “I won’t come inside you.” And then he kissed me again.
    My passion surfed a tidal wave of emotions. I wanted him desperately, but I started