CARLOS & KATRINA

A Novel by Charles Adrian Trevino
Copyright 2006, 2018

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Chapter 9

David Slasher slouched in the front seat of Carlos' old beat–up car as it rattled down the manicured streets of Westview like an unkempt out of place intruder. He had been in a good mood that morning, but now as he stared out the window watching the large impressive houses going by, he was once again experiencing the same unpleasant worried feeling that had been nagging him intermittently for some time.

Katrina Fury sat in the back seat on the other side of the car, looking out the window. She wasn't the only reason for Slasher's mood change, but she was a large contributing factor. Nobody had invited her to come along yet there she was, sitting on her divine ass like some overwhelmingly alluring sexual temptation, a tantalizingly delicious meal that neither he nor Carlos could partake of. And she was playing games with them.

Fontana had offered to give him a ride home from school since Slasher's car was being repaired at the garage. They had been sitting behind a line of slow–moving cars waiting to exit the parking lot when Katrina had suddenly come running up to the car, pulled open the back door and jumped in behind Carlos, giggling as she threw her backpack onto the seat beside her. Fontana had just smiled, but Slasher found himself growing slightly irritated by the sudden intrusion. He wasn't sure what Katrina really wanted with the infamous Fontana; although he had started to believe that she honestly liked Carlos for his talents and wit, he still felt faintly suspicious. He wanted to feel happy for his friend's apparent good fortune, but as a couple, Carlos and Katrina were just too mismatched to be believable. And he didn't care much for Katrina's teasing either.

"Why do boys like to go screeching around corners in their cars like they're real bitchen or something?" Katrina asked in a pouting tone.

Carlos laughed, looking straight ahead at the road. "Because they're trying to get rid of Slashers," he quipped. Katrina giggled again as Carlos slowed his speed slightly. She was making him nervous like she always did, but he was getting pretty good at not showing it.

"Where's your car, David?" Katrina asked.

"At the shop." Slasher had had enough. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a silver cigarette case. Opening it, he took out a half–smoked joint and attached it to the roach clip on his keychain. Keeping a straight face, he handed the stinking roach back to Katrina.

"Ugh… get that thing away from me!" Katrina frowned in disapproval. Slasher burst out laughing.

"But all the stars smoke it! Didn't you know that, Katrina?" Slasher grinned wickedly at Carlos, who gave his friend a warning look.

Katrina leaned forward, resting her arms on the duct–taped top of Carlos' front seat. "Why do you smoke pot, Carlos?" she asked gently.

"It makes me smarter," Carlos deadpanned, prompting more laughs from his passengers. He was slightly embarrassed by the question; it had never occurred to him that he would ever be asked to explain his drug use to someone like Katrina, who positively reeked of wholesomeness. But her beautiful, musical laugh always set him at ease; Carlos loved to hear Katrina's laugh. Still, he couldn't quite understand what this golden goddess was doing in his old battered car; it was just too incongruous. His suspicious mind wouldn't stop asking the question.

When Carlos dropped Slasher off at his house, Katrina grabbed her backpack and climbed into the front seat next to him. As he cast a sidelong glance at the beautiful vision sitting beside him, looking for all the world like she was his very own girlfriend, Carlos' thoughts began to race again. It was too easy to start thinking that Katrina could be his; dangerously easy.

"So you liked the way I got rid of old Slasher, eh?" Carlos said as he drove off, smiling at Katrina.

"Hmmm... David Slasher can be very annoying when he wants to," she said, pouting again. Katrina leaned back in her seat, raising her arms and clasping her hands behind her head, and smiled at him. She knew the effect this was having on poor Carlos, and she was pouring it on.

Carlos fought hard to keep from showing his agitation, but he was completely unnerved by the suddenly coquettish manner of his uninvited passenger. He always felt a need to put the brakes on the feelings that Katrina aroused in him, and now those feelings were coming on stronger than ever. Looking at the road ahead of him, he thought of the many things he had to do that day that had not gotten done. A school paper. His music. Anything but Katrina.

"I'd better get you back to your car," Carlos said as he headed back toward the campus.

Katrina leaned over toward him and put her hand gently on his shoulder. "Do you have a few minutes to talk, Carlos? There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about... but you're always so inaccessible!"

"What? Of course! I mean… sure, I have time," Carlos stuttered, beginning to feel nervous again.

"Why don't you pull over under that big tree up there, and we can sit in the shade and talk," said Katrina, motioning with her hand. Carlos obediently pulled over to the spot she had pointed out, and parked. The large stately homes were set so far back from the sidewalk that no one could possibly overhear them.

"Now…what do you want to talk about?" he asked, turning towards Katrina. She paused for a moment before speaking.

"Carlos, remember I told you about how my working on the movie was interfering with my school work?" Carlos nodded silently, waiting for her to continue.

"Well, it's come time for me to make a decision. I can't possibly continue with both school and the film, and… I've decided to leave school… for now… and see how this acting thing is going to work out."

Carlos felt his heart sinking. He had really come to enjoy the looks on people's faces as they watched him and Katrina walking around the campus together, laughing and talking; now there would be no more of that. But Katrina's next words blasted his sadness to smithereens.

"I'd still like to see you, Carlos… after I leave school." Katrina remained imperiously cool and confident. There wasn't a trace of hesitation or uncertainty in her voice; she wasn't asking him, she was telling him.

Carlos had stopped breathing. "Oh, well… we'll still see each other! You know… I mean…"

"How?" Katrina interrupted him. "You never ask me out! You don't even have my phone number!" Carlos realized he was staring straight ahead again. When he turned towards Katrina, she was aiming another one of her dazzling fashion model smiles at him, looking like she was on the verge of laughing.

"Oh… I meant to ask you… but I knew you were really busy, I mean with the movie and everything…" Carlos began looking around the car nervously for a pen.

Now Katrina did laugh; but as always, there was no trace of meanness in her melodic outburst. Carlos was grateful his dark complexion hid the hot flush that had come over his face. In spite of all his fantasies, he had not really expected this. "Where's that stupid pen, gosh dang it..." he muttered, pretending to be angry.

"Don't worry, Carlos... I've already written it down for you." Katrina reached into her blouse pocket and pulled out a pink piece of paper with several numbers written on it. "Here! That's my home phone… that's my cell phone; and on that one you can leave a message if the other two are busy. So now you have no excuse not to call me!"

As Carlos took the paper from Katrina, his paranoia was warning him that it was dangerous to get his hopes too high; yet there was something about the neat handwriting on the pretty little piece of paper that reassured him. Katrina was a high–quality person, he reminded himself. Very high quality. She wouldn't do anything mean to hurt him. He smiled as he put the paper in his shirt pocket.

"There! That wasn't so bad, was it? Now you can take me back to school," Katrina said, patting his shoulder in mock congratulation.

Carlos was in a rare state of happiness as he pulled away from the curb and headed back toward the campus, thinking that he really had been stupid not to ask Katrina out after she had shown so much interest in him. He found a good song on the radio, and the odd couple chatted about Katrina's movie and Carlos' music as they drove along, enjoying the mellow afternoon sunshine. They had driven about a mile through the residential streets when suddenly a shiny new red Beamer screeched around a corner ahead of them, it's four occupants laughing hysterically. As the car accelerated their way it suddenly swerved towards them, causing Carlos to stomp on the brake pedal in alarm. The red car sped past as Carlos and Katrina lurched forward in their seatbelts, missing them by inches.

"Shit!" Carlos yelled, momentarily forgetting who he was with. "Who was that jerk?"

Katrina stared straight ahead in disbelief. She had recognized the passenger in the front seat of the Beamer as it sped by, and he had seen her. It was Jacob Rosenberg… her friend. The same friend that had so helpfully introduced her to the filmmaking industry VIP's had been in the car that had deliberately almost hit her. "Jacob… Jacob Rosenberg," she murmured to herself in amazement.

"Who?" Carlos was staring after the red car, a look of sheer hatred twisting his features.

"I… I didn't see them very well," Katrina said, recovering. A fast-building anger was now replacing the fear she had just experienced. She felt betrayed again, by someone she had trusted and come to like. "Whoever it was should be arrested! What an idiot! Where are the police when you need them?"

"Jesus… I'm sorry, Katrina!" Carlos said as he restarted his engine, which had stalled when he slammed on the brakes.

"Well, it certainly wasn't your fault, Carlos!" Katrina put her hand around his arm. "I can't believe some of the people in this town! We'd better get back to the school where it's safe."

Carlos glanced at the large beautiful homes outside his window. "Yeah; it's not too safe around here, apparently. Let's go."

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