Down 'N' Derby by Lila Felix Page A

out he had cheated on me, confronted him and that was when he reached out, twisted my forearm so hard that bruises and broken blood vessels broke out immediately.  He got in my face and all I could do was look at his mouth while I was told in hateful words how he would do what he wanted, when he wanted and I would be fine with it.  Enter dumbass Storey.  She sat there and cried and took it.  She apologized for looking at his phone when he got a text message, the one that revealed his infidelity.  She walked all the way home and didn’t tell anyone what happened.  When what she should’ve done was called the police—and knocked his teeth down his throat.  And the real kicker?  Not only did I not tell anyone what he was doing to me; time after time I let him apologize, believed him—and I let it go on for nearly four years. 
                  After unplugging the phone, I dragged myself to bed, looking forward to enjoying the beach for the rest of the summer and then going back home.  Simon should be gone by then.  He got into Brown University, not because of his shining grades but because his uncle is on the board of directors and an alumni. 
                  As I lay in my bed, I could hear the waves as they ebbed and receded.  It was a lullaby that I would dearly miss.

Chapter 17
    Maddox
    I’m not saying I should be answering phones at the psychic friends ’ hotline or anything.  But I just had this feeling about California.  Like something was waiting for me there.
     
                  California is an odd place when you come from Louisiana.  People don’t talk to each other on the street.  No one says excuse me when they pass each other.  I’ve seen more people flip each other the bird just on the freeway, as they call it, than I have in my entire life.  And let’s not even talk about the looming cloud over the whole county of Los Angeles.  It made me think the alien apocalypse was nearer than the TV would have us believe. 
                  And Louisiana was hot during the summer.  We’re talking about wet, sweaty, heat which could reach the 120 degree mark.  But this?  This desert had a choking dry heat and I swore I’d never complain about a Southern summer ever again.  We kept driving through the Mojave desert until we got to Long Beach and realized we were way too far South.  That’s what I got for relinquishing the map over to Nixon after we got into California.  We found a small hotel and bunked in for the night, exhausted.  And as I looked at the map app on Nixon’s phone I realized why it had taken us so long to get there.  We had taken a four hour detour. 
                  Nixon had been really quiet since we left Vegas even though he professed to being excited.  And it was completely sneaky of me, but I checked his phone log and saw that he lied to me.  He hadn’t been calling his mom.  He was calling Reed.  He didn’t even lie well.  It said Orangutan on the caller ID but her phone number still showed right next to it.  I snickered a little to myself at him calling her Orangutan.  That was one I would have to use when I spoke to her again.  If I spoke to her again.  I went back to the map app and saw that we were actually only about thirty minutes from Venice Beach.  And I hadn’t told anyone, not even Reed but if this lead didn’t pan out, I would quit looking.  There were only two other leads other than this one and one was in Maine and the other in Canada.  If he wasn’t here, I would stop looking.  I thought we would end up just spending the rest of the summer on the beach.  I wasn’t ready to face my family.  The bad-assness of the whole thing had worn off just in the few weeks we had been on the road. 
                  “Dude, you’re gonna run down the battery on my phone.  We’ll find out how to get to Venice Beach in the morning.  We have time.” He grabbed the phone