Ultraviolet by Nancy Bush

lakeside view to the street frontage. I should’ve paid more attention to the house colors, but I got it figured out in the end.

    I saw taillights winking red down the lane to Do Not Enter’s construction site and could just make out the house’s plywood and black Visqueen covered roof. A black Jimmy with the license plate DOINOU sat cheek to jowl with the red Taurus. It took me a moment; then I got it. The license plate was an abbreviated acronym for Do I know You?

    Hmmm.

    I didn’t think I could crash the party. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do. I parked the Volvo down Beachlake a ways, hoping I wouldn’t get rear-ended or sideswiped as there wasn’t much of a shoulder, then walked back. I had this nebulous plan about acting like I was a senior at Lakeshore. Would the fact that I was their rival eject me from the group? I knew better than to try to pretend I attended Lake Chinook High. And what if they asked me why I looked so old?

    With that in mind, I pulled my hair into two pigtails like the Wilson girl, one on either side of my head. I didn’t dare look in a mirror because I was afraid I’d scare myself. I didn’t have any cute bows to add to the “look,” but I didn’t think it would matter. I put my cell phone on vibrate, slung my purse strap over my shoulder, then walked from my car to the party. Another car pulled into the drive as I approached, and a young guy glanced out his window at me. I smiled shyly and waved and he slowed to a stop and rolled down the window.

    “You guys played good tonight,” he said, checking out my sweatshirt. “Just not good enough.” He grinned.

    “Well, you know, Keegan was just so great.”

    “Yeah, he is. Surprised you guys don’t hate his guts.”

    So Keegan was on the Lake Chinook High team. I hadn’t been sure. “Well, you know,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders.

    “You here with anybody?”

    “Nah…I…” I looked down the road. “My best friend and her boyfriend are fighting, and I kinda wanted out of the car. I’ve been walking around.” I shrugged a bit woefully. “Maybe they forgot me.”

    “Where do you live?”

    “Actually, I don’t go to Lakeshore. I’m just staying with my dad,” I improvised, waving toward the north. “Just got the sweatshirt for fun.” This was a better idea all the way around. Sometimes I awe myself with my inspired lying.

    “Hey, well…” He looked down the drive. “We got a party going. What school you go to?”

    “Sunset,” I said, pulling out the name of a Beaverton high school.

    He was already past that and onto other things. “Well, get in. I’m not a psycho. Or you can walk down the driveway but it’s wet.”

    “I’ll get in,” I said, heading around the front of his car and climbing into the passenger seat. I don’t carry a gun and I’m kind of a wimp, but I’d picked up a rock on the way and my fist closed around it inside the pocket of my sweatshirt. My first instinct is always to flee, but if someone attacks me I’m going to come out swinging. This kid looked like he weighed about a hundred pounds. I thought I had a good chance.

    But he simply drove me down a long, curving gravel driveway that opened up in front of the construction zone. Several cars were angled around. We parked next to the red Taurus. I climbed out as another car pulled up behind us. I could see that pretty soon there would be no backing out unless the cars behind moved first. It was interesting, however, as I saw no one parked behind DOINOU . “Who’s got the Jimmy?” I asked my friend.

    “Keegan. Of course.” He smiled. “Don’t want to piss him off.”

    “Guess not,” I said.

    “I’m Brett.”

    “Ronnie. Short for Veronica.”

    We shook hands. I have this alias I trot out whenever I can, Veronica Kellogg. I know it’s best to use an alias similar to your own name so you respond to it correctly, and I did all right with the Kellogg part—not too far from Kelly. But Veronica is