The Carrie Diaries. Candace Bushnell

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СКАЧАТЬ It isn’t that.” I knew it had nothing to do with my mother’s death. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell Doug the truth—that my reluctance was due to the fact that I didn’t find him the least bit attractive.

      “It’s okay,” he said. “I forgive you. I’m going to give you a chance to make it up to me.”

      “Ha,” I said, hoping he was making a joke.

      Doug drove past his house and kept going, down the dirt track that led to the river. Between his sad little street and the river were miles and miles of mud-flat farmland, deserted in November. I began to get scared.

      “Doug, stop.”

      “Why?” he asked. “We have to talk.”

      I knew then why boys hated that phrase, “We have to talk.” It gave me a tired, sick feeling. “Where are we going? There’s nothing out here.”

      “There’s the Gun Tree,” he said.

      The Gun Tree was all the way down by the river, so named because a lightning strike had split the branches into the shape of a pistol. I began calculating my chances for escape. If we got all the way to the river, I could jump out of the car and run along the narrow path that led through the trees. Doug couldn’t follow in his car, but he could certainly outrun me. And then what would he do? Rape me? He might rape me and kill me afterward. I didn’t want to lose my virginity to Doug Haskell, for Christ’s sake, and definitely not like that. I decided he’d have to kill me first.

      But maybe he did only want to talk.

      “Listen, Doug, I’m sorry about the other night.”

      “You are?”

      “Of course. I just didn’t want to have sex in a car with other people. It’s kind of gross.”

      We were about half a mile from civilization.

      “Yeah. Well, I guess I can understand that. But Roy is the captain of the basketball team and—”

      “Roy is disgusting. Really, Doug. You’re much better than he is. He’s an asshole.”

      “He’s one of my best buds.”

      “You should be captain of the basketball team. I mean, you’re taller and better looking. And smarter. If you ask me, Roy’s taking advantage of you.”

      “You think?” He took his eyes off the road and looked at me. The road was becoming increasingly bumpy, made for tractors not cars, and Doug had to slow down.

      “Well, of course,” I said smoothly. “Everyone knows that. Everyone says you’re a better player than Roy—”

      “I am.”

      “And—” I took a quick peek at the speedometer. Twenty miles an hour. The car was bucking like an old bull. If I was going to make a break for it, I had to do it now. “And, Doug, I need to go home.” I rolled down the window. A cold blast of air hit my face like a slap. “The car’s covered with mud. Your mother’s going to kill you.”

      “My mother won’t care.”

      “Come on, Doug. Stop the car.”

      “We’ll go to the Gun Tree. Then I’ll take you home.” But he didn’t sound so sure.

      “I’m getting out.” I grabbed the door handle.

      Doug tried to pull my hand away as the car veered off the track and slid into a pile of dried cornstalks.

      “Christ, Carrie. Why the hell d’you do that?”

      We got out of the car to inspect the damage. It wasn’t too bad. Mostly straw caught in the bumper.“If you hadn’t…” I said, relief and anger burning the back of my throat. “Because you wanted to prove to your stupid friends that you aren’t a loser—”

      He stared at me, his breath steaming the air around him like a mysterious dry ice.

      Then he smacked his hand on the hood of the car. “I wouldn’t fuck you if you paid me,” he shouted, pausing for breath. “You’re lucky…lucky I even considered having sex with you. Lucky I even took you out in the first place. I only did it because I felt sorry for you.”

      What else could he say?

      “Good. Then you should be happy.”

      “Oh, I’m happy all right.” He gave the front tire a good kick. “I’m happy as hell.”

      I turned and started walking up the road. My back was a firestorm of nerves. When I got about fifty feet away, I started whistling. When I was a hundred feet away, I heard the puttering sound of the car engine, but I kept going. Eventually, he passed me, looking straight ahead as if I didn’t exist. I picked up a strand of dried grass and tore it with my fingers, watching the pieces blow away.

      I did tell this story to The Mouse and Maggie. I even told it to Walt. I told it again and again, but I made it funny. I made it so funny, [A-Z]he Mouse couldn’t stop laughing. Funny always makes the bad things go away.

       CHAPTER SEVEN Paint the Town Red

      “Carrie, you’re not going to be able to joke your way out of this,” Mrs. Givens says, pointing to the can of paint.

      “I wasn’t planning to make a joke,” I insist, as if I’m completely innocent. I have a problem with authority. I really do. It turns me into mush. I’m a real jellyfish when it comes to facing adults.

      “What were you planning to do with the paint, then?” Mrs. Givens is one of those middle-aged ladies who you look at and think, If I ever end up like her, shoot me. Her hair is teased into a dried bush that looks like it could self-ignite at any moment. I suddenly picture Mrs. Givens with a conflagration on her head, running through the halls of Castlebury High, and I nearly crack up.

      “Carrie?” she demands.

      “The paint is for my father—for one of his projects.”

      “This is not like you, Carrie. You’ve never been in trouble before.”

      “I swear, Mrs. Givens. It’s nothing.”

      “Very well. You can leave the paint with me and pick it up after school.”

      “Givens confiscated my paint can,” I whisper to The Mouse as we enter calculus.

      “How did she find it?”

      “She saw me trying to shove it into my locker.”

      “Damn,”The Mouse says.

      “I know. We’re going to have to go to plan B.”

      “What is plan B?”

      “Action СКАЧАТЬ