Fastback Beach

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Authors: Shirlee Matheson
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community work to perform and I have the perfect spot for you. The Rossburn Community Association has offered to work with selected teenagers under court supervision.”
    She hands me a piece of paper. “Here’s the president’s name and address. Report to him Saturday morning at 9:00 sharp. He will phone me when you arrive, and you will phone me as you leave. You and I will become well acquainted.”

Chapter Three
    â€œShe’s
hot!
” Larry the Lark had whispered when Mackenzie Morash strolled into shop class the second week of school, twenty minutes late, wearing baby-blue coveralls and a wide smile. Normally Mr. Santonio would have sent a student packing if she came in even a minute late. But this time he took the note and paired her with Greg Summers.
    Greg groaned. He’s a keener, alwayswants top marks in everything, and having a girl as his partner was a drag. So he thought. Mackenzie looked over the tools and took that little Briggs and Stratton engine apart in minutes, with all the parts sorted for proper I.D. and reassembly. Greg’s grin nearly split his face.
    Turns out Mackenzie’s dad had just opened his tenth Master’s Transmission shop over on Vulcan Avenue. Turns out Mackenzie grew up in garages.
    I fell in love with Kenny that first day, but I waited for all the other guys to take their shot.
    Maybe it was my good looks and money — ha! — or maybe the fact that I didn’t come on strong, but she went for me. I’m pretty comfortable around girls but I’d never gone with anyone before, just the odd date. Until Mackenzie.
    One day Larry the Lark and I were leaving school in his ‘72 New Yorker — it’s the size of the
Queen Mary
and just about as old — when we spotted the cheerleadershaving a practice. Larry slammed on the brakes. “Sweet!” The girls were finishing up for the day, gathering their pom poms and megaphones. We had a big game coming up on Friday against the hotshot Rutherford Rustlers.
    Larry pulled up to the curb. “Any of you fine ladies order limousine service?” Six girls jumped into the backseat, laughing, smelling of perfume and girl sweat and all things nice. Mackenzie was one of them. We drove up and down a few streets, gunning the engine at every green light, stereo blasting tunes, then pulled in to the A&W. I saw Mackenzie looking me over, so I sat back, stayed cool, not yapping like Larry, but sort of listening, keeping Mackenzie in my peripheral vision.
    We drove the girls home. Luckily for me, Mackenzie lived the farthest away in a suburb called Green Forest Acres. The transmission business must pay well.
    When she opened the car door I hopped out too. “You play on the team, don’t you?”she asked. I nodded. More on the bench, I could have said, but she’d find that out soon enough. “I’ll cheer for you extra loud,” she said.
    Feeling brave I asked, “Are you going to the dance after the game?” When she nodded I said quickly, before losing my nerve, “Could I come by for you?” She took the scrunch thing out of her hair and threw back her head. Her hair bounced and flew around her face. Then she looked at me with those brown eyes. “Sure!” she said.
    â€œNice work,” Larry said when I got back into the car. “You never moved that quick on the field!”
    I laughed. “She’s cool.”
    â€œNaw!” Larry drawled. He threw the car into drive and punched the gas pedal, as always.
    Our team won, and I played well enough to not embarrass myself. I could hear Mackenzie’s voice cheering me on, even leading aspecial cheer for me. You know … “Give me an M! Give me an I! Give me an L! Give me an E! Give me an S!
Miles Derkach, Miles Derkach
…” and the cheering squad went into this locomotive cheer that they do. Felt great.
    After the game I went home to clean up.
    Mom watched me. “Is this a

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