I PULLED IN TO BUBBADO'S FAMOUS BURGERS in my red and white tricked out '57 Chevy, spruced up for a Friday night. All afternoon, business had been slow at Jake's Classic Auto Shop where I work. I'd been there 40 hours a week since graduating high school last year, when my dad made me get a job to help pay for my new used car. Jake was out for the day at the Classics of 1960 auto show. I had time to labor lovingly over my Chevy until the paint job sparkled and the chrome shone like a brand new dime. Some day, I hoped to buy the shop from Jake for my very own. I killed the engine, stretched my arms across the back of the white leather seat and dialed in the radio tuner. The Who sang back at me as I squinted from the glare of the pink and turquoise neon lights that surrounded the place.

Man, those girls in their roller skates and short skirts looked good. The smells of burgers and fries drove me nuts, but I held off on ordering and waited for Fred Whittler to get there.

He liked sitting in my Chevy with me to eat. You gotta know Fred. He never wanted to sit in his Monte Carlo when we hung out here. It was a beat up, dented old tuna boat, an awful shade of pea green. Maybe he thought it would cramp his style. He was always honing in on some guy with a cool car, making friends and all. We'd been acquaintances since high school but he was hard to stomach most of the time. I'd rather have spent my Friday night in the company of Joe Rivolli, but he had to work at the bowling alley tonight, the late shift.

Though the Stones were now playing, I turned down the radio as a sweet little brunette waitress skated my way. She grabbed the car where the window was rolled down so she could stop herself. The nametag she wore said Dizzy. Uh oh. I smoothed down my red-headed cowlick and turned to her. "Hi."

"Hey there. Can I take your odor, I mean order, please?" She had a Gerber-baby smile and teetered on her skates a bit. "Sorry, I'm new here. And not very good on the skates yet."

I tried not to laugh. "I, ah, I'm waiting for a friend." I rubbed her fingerprints off the chrome on my driver's side door and ran my fingers through my hair again. I stole another peek at her.

Dizzy stood there, perched on her skates, all bubbly. She leaned into the door and took a deep breath and acres of creamy skin above the neckline of her little red skate outfit came into view. It buttoned between her breasts and fit her too tight but I didn't mind. Her body jostled as her feet tried hard to keep her still.

"Oh, OK. Well, you just holler 'Dizzy' when ya need me, all right?" She stood up, pulled down on her tiny skirt and whirled around, a little shaky. It didn't cover much and I admired the brown glow of her toned legs.

"Yeah, sure. OK --"

"Wade! Hey. Great to see you, it's been a while, huh?" Fred yanked open my passenger door and slid in beside me on the big bench seat. "What's up, buddy? How's work?"

"Yeah, it has been a while. Oh, the shop has been slow this past few weeks." I was always thinking of my stomach. "Damn, I'm starved and we got this great little waitress ..."

Jesus, why did I say that?

"Oh?" Fred asked and his head whipped about, searching the dozen waitresses for the one that was ours.

I nudged him and jerked my head to our left. She was at the next car over.

"Oh, that one," Fred said and appreciated the view her itty-bitty dress gave him. "Little pink panties, huh?"

I punched his biceps and we laughed, though I felt uncomfortable.

"Yeah, hands off," I said. "Let me have a chance this time. Please."

"Oh, sure," Fred said and smirked in his lazy-assed way. Fred was slick as they come, and the girls just fell for all his dumb lines. Females would smell him out like bears hunting down food in a campground. He'd slept with half the females in Torbush, Texas, before we graduated high school, including some of their mamas, too.

"Oh, come on. All's fair in love and --"

"Don't even start, ya twerp," I said and made eyes at him to back off as Dizzy rolled over to us.

"Hey, there, so this here's Fred?" Dizzy leaned in on his window to introduce herself, already busy making goo-goo eyes at him.

My teeth ground together and I nodded. Normally they took the order on the driver side of the car. Not if Fred was in the passenger seat, I guess.

"Yeah, honey, I'm Fred. So, you're Dizzy? Well, what're you doing after work tonight, Dizzy?" Fred worked his masculine wiles on her and I resigned myself to another loser night.

She blushed. "Tonight?" She blew out her breath. Her skates slid back and forth and her tiny feet weren't too steady.

Fred took her hand and kissed the top of it while his eyes locked on her blinking brown ones. So soft and large.

I was the one melting. I wanted to know what she liked to do outside of work and where she lived, how many brothers and sisters she had, and if she liked cars.

"Um, nothing. Why?" Her grin was kind of sideways.

I took it she was a gal of few words. She wouldn't need them with Fred anyhow.

"I'd like to take you out, see some moonlight together. What d'ya think of that?" he asked in that persuasive voice.

"Sure, that'd be fun. Pick me up at 11?" Her chest moved against his arm on the window, actually lapped over top of it. Some guys get all the luck.

Swell. This night is moving right along.

"Could I order now? I am hungry, you know." I sounded like a whining brat, but hell, I hated this. Same scene, same guys, different night. Maybe I needed new friends.

"Oh, yes, of course," she said and took out her pad, after pulling the pencil down from above her ear. Her curly brown hair caught on the pencil and pieces escaped with it from her bun. Fred's hand moved up to help her undo it and as he did so, he let his hand brush across her right breast on purpose.

What a snake.

Her nipples already stood out in the cool night air and now her face was bright red.

"Fred, goddammit. Give her a break before I bust your face," I said. Dizzy needed a few seconds to compose herself so I jumped on Fred.

"I'm ready when you are," she said with her face tucked down into her chest. Her voice was curt.

I gave her my order and pressed nearer to her across Fred, making certain I pinned his arms as I did so. "Two Bubba burgers, no onions, with lettuce, tomato, pickles, and thousand island dressing, one large order of fries, and a chocolate shake, please."

She smiled down at me and I tried my dimples on her. I hoped it was working. "I'm real sorry about my friend here. I'd be glad to take you out and try to make up for him sometime. If that's possible."

She nodded.

Fred shrugged and used his thousand-watter on her. "Same for me, only a vanilla shake instead, cutie. Merci, mademoiselle."

I wanted to punch his smug mouth as he leered at her breasts, then gazed into her eyes like he was Fabian or something. I watched her leave from my window, tired of it all. And Fred, who was elbowing me.

"Man, she IS hot. Dynamite, in fact!"

"Yeah, yeah. Shut the hell up," I said, disgusted.

"Come on, Wade. Take it easy," he said and adjusted my rearview mirror towards his face. He smoothed back his hair and smiled at his reflection, then turned the mirror back to its original place. "You know Betty likes you."

Betty Dunlap. Oh God. "So? She's not what I had in mind for the summer." I sighed and looked out the windshield.

"No? Dizzy is more your speed?" he asked and laughed too loud. "OK, OK."

I was afraid to ask what OK meant.

Fred laughed. "Shit. You gotta kick back some. Your Opie Taylor looks could do the trick if you'd let 'em. Use the freckles and dimples to your advantage. Every gal loves blue eyes." He turned to me and winked.

I groaned out loud and wondered just how long this night could last.

Dizzy wheeled to the car with the tray tilting and I reached out the steady it, and helped her hook it on the car so she didn't scratch it. Her shirt stretched across her chest tighter when she reached up and patted her bun back into place.

I didn't think it could be any tighter. But I was wrong. I gulped.

She dropped her arms and I dropped my eyes when she peeked in the window over the food tray. "Oh, gosh, thanks. What was YOUR name?" she asked.

"Wade." I blushed at that. "Fred here is paying." I looked at him. It was his turn to fork over the dough. Besides, he owed her a tip.

He handed me a twenty and told her to keep the change.

The show off.

"Oh, thank you so much," she gushed into the window, cleavage swinging back and forth over my french fries. So inviting. We couldn't answer, just sat there mesmerized until she stood up straight. "I'll check back in a few minutes with you guys."

Fred grinned over at me like an ape. I tore off the first bite of my burger like I'd been starved for days. Nearly threw my neck out. I kept quiet because I had nothing nice to say. The food just stuck in my throat.

Neither of us noticed Dizzy's return.

"Oh, and Fred?" She bent over again.

He found his voice after I poked him. "Yes, doll?"

"I think I'd like to go out with Wade tonight instead. Is that OK?"

Already having crammed fries into my mouth while thinking about Dizzy's luscious curves, I choked. When I recovered, I was stuttering, "Um, er, sure, tonight's OK." In the rearview mirror I was tomato red.

"Ah, why's that?" Fred asked with a surprised glance at her. His eyes said babyIwantyoubad and Dizzy wasn't buying.

"I like the way he looks as me, like I'm a puppy in the window he wants to buy," she said and touched my arm with her soft, warm fingers. They circled around my wrist and I stared at them, unable to process what was going on. "It's so gentle and cute."

"Oh?" Fred sat very still. "And that's good because ...?"

"It's not that barracuda kinda look you have, like you're about to eat some poor girl right up. And Wade, well, his hands know their place." She chuckled and her rounded parts jiggled. "Relationships are all about respect, ya know?"

I had to smile now.

Dizzy delivered this insult with the sweetest of tones and a full shot of her pearly whites. Both of her hands splayed out on the door and she stared him dead right in the eyes.

I didn't know she could be that serious.

Poor Fred. His face had this look of incredulous shock, one I'd never seen before on him. He sat stunned and began to eat a while later, when his food was cold. He said nothing the rest of the night. At 11 p.m. sharp, he got out of the car and walked back to his tuna boat like a zombie.

I sat there, beaming up at the moonlight I was about to share with Dizzy, nonchalantly stroking the chrome on my door sill.

Rita Lizbeth Durham currently resides in Georgia, after having spent most of her life in Southern California. She grew up writing poetry and long pen-pal letters; her dad played pro baseball and the family traveled a lot. This is her first published story; she's currently working on a novel.

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