Read Online South of Sunshine by Dana Elmendorf - Free Book Online

don’t figure this out soon, my Bren opportunities are going to be gobbled up by Chelsea Hannigan. I am not going to hand Bren over so easily.

Chapter 8
    As you drive down Main Street, it’s hard not to notice the two-story painted brick wall on the backside of Hauser’s Pawn Shop. A giant Sunshine High Wildcat rips through the wall like it’s shredded paper. Painted below is the high school’s current football schedule and scores. We creamed the Vikings last week. The Wildcat’s colors have faded over the years, but the image still screams Friday Night Lights . I park my car at the base of the wall and walk up to Hot Flix, Van’s family-owned video store. I plan on spending my Friday night with him instead of going to the football game with the rest of the town—and, probably, Bren with Chelsea. Ugh.
    Hot Flix smells like fresh popcorn from the vintage style popper in the front window. The theater carpet is bright blue with colorful confetti sprinkled all over it. Behind the counter, a giant flat screen hangs, playing mostly—if not always—Johnny Depp. It’s probably the only video store still open within a hundred-mile radius. Those DVD vending machines just haven’t taken over Sunshine like people expected. I think folks around here still like the old-fashioned way of doing things, preferring human contact to a hunk of metal and plastic.
    In the back are two doorways curtained in black. Curtain number one leads to the office and bathrooms. Curtain number two hides the porn closet. It’s the shame of Sunshine. You have to be eighteen to enter the closet, and a number-coded system keeps video covers from ever seeing the light of day. It also happens to be—at ten bucks a rental—Hot Flix’s bread and butter.
    So much for shame.
    “Hello, sweet pea,” Van’s mom says to me as she emerges from curtain number one.
    “Hello, Mrs. Betty.”
    Van’s mother has the face of Mrs. Claus. Thin silver spectacles perch on top of her nose. Gray and blond blend together in Mrs. Betty’s beauty-shop styled hair. I have never seen her in anything but a dress, vintage style with a slim waist and buttons down the front. Mrs. Betty gives the biggest hugs, as if you’re about to go off to war and she’ll probably never see you again.
    After she releases me, I flop down on the plush sofa. Worn stretched-out fabric covers the most comfy couch I’ve ever lain on. Van’s mother moved it in here so his lazy friends could hang out with him at work. I suggested Mother put one in at Merle Norman—the suggestion went over like a lead balloon.
    “You kids going to watch Captain Jack tonight?” she asks all giddy.
    Lord, I hope not. “Not sure what the big guy has planned for us.” I cut Van a look. He sees me, but he’s helping a customer. “You and Mr. Lovelace got a hot date?” I ask, forcing myself to be social, though all I really want to do is mope.
    She giggles. “Oh no. He wouldn’t know ‘hot’ if he touched an oven. I’m going over to Craft World to buy a whole bunch of paints. After seeing your pedicured toenails the other day, I got an inspiration for a big project.” She winks.
    The last time Mrs. Betty got an idea for a big craft project, she knitted thirty-two dog sweaters for the local pound. Homeless pups never looked so posh in their vibrantly colored chenille sweaters.
    “Be good, kids. See you later, hon.” She waves bye to Van.
    “Well, Mr. Perkipsky,” says Van, “if you liked Little Shop of Horrors , you’ll love High School Musical .” What? I do my best not to snicker.
    Van is the guru of movies. You can tell him a few movies you love, and he can name off ten more that you’ll like equally as much. He’s got a ninety-nine percent accuracy rate—pretty impressive. The old man thanks him for the rental and leaves.
    I bury my face in the crook of my elbow. “ High School Musical , really?”
    “Hey, the old man has a musical fetish. He doesn’t care what they’re about.” I hear