Tina Walker really wanted to go to the party at Trish’s house. Getting permission from her parents was not unnecessary. Her mom and dad were out of town on a second honeymoon trip, so they would never know. They thought Tina was a perfect angel, and could be trusted to be left alone while they were gone. “No parties in the house while we’re gone,” was her father’s semi-serious rule, but he hadn’t said anything about her going to someone else’s party. Tina thought that was a loophole worth exploiting.

Her problem was transportation. She tried calling her best friend, but Mindy was on a road trip with the girls’ volleyball team, something Tina had forgotten. Next, she tried Nancy, but she was grounded. Again, something that Tina should have remembered.

Her mother’s minivan was sitting in the garage, but Tina was fifteen and only had a learner’s permit. She debated with herself, and finally decided that it was worth the risk to drive herself to the party. Normally, a cool kind like Tina would hate to be seen driving a minivan, but desperate times ... yada, yada.

Once she decided she was definitely going, getting ready was fun. She knew what she would wear - her special party outfit - a red, sequined blouse with a daring (for a fifteen-year-old) neckline and a black miniskirt. To pull off the top, she needed a special push-up bra to display her somewhat meager breasts properly. Fortunately, her bestie Mindy, who had the same issue, had given one to Tina on her birthday. Tina knew her legs were her best feature, which is why she liked the black skirt that ended at mid-thigh. Her dad didn’t like her to wear it, but he wasn’t around to criticize. To complete the look, Tina had some daring red panties, just in case some curious boy might be unable to resist taking a peek when she crossed her legs.

She spent a few minutes with her curling iron, getting the ends of her medium-length straight blond hair to curve just right to frame her face. She knew Kevin liked that look, and he would probably be at the party. All the time, she was humming “This Girl is on Fire,” her favorite song, and how she felt that night.

Driving her mom’s car without permission or a licence took some courage, but since the party was only fifteen minutes away, on roads she was very familiar with, she figured as long as she drove slowly, there wouldn’t be a problem. For the first few miles, that was true. Then, while she was carefully heading down Palmer, getting near Oak Drive, almost close enough to smell the pot she knew would be readily available at the party, her heart froze when she saw red-and-blue lights flashing right behind her.

Tina checked her speedometer again, sure that she was well under the speed limit. Still, the cop was tailing her, and when he flashed his headlights at her, there was no doubt that she was the one he was after. For a second, she thought about making a run for it, but she had seen enough police chases on the real-life cop shows her dad liked to watch to know that wouldn’t end well, so reluctantly, she pulled into the almost deserted parking lot of a decaying strip mall.

She sat in the car, staring straight ahead into the darkness, her hands gripping the steering wheel, because she had heard that was the best way to wait for an officer. She was nervous, so she jumped a little when she heard something knocking on the window next to her. She slowly lowered it and gave the officer her best “please don’t arrest me” grin.

It was hard to see who had pulled her over, especially with a bright flashlight shining in her eyes, but she could see enough to know it was a guy. She had been hoping it would be one of the few female deputies in town, but no such luck. “What’s the matter, officer?” she asked. “I know I wasn’t speeding.”

He smiled at her. In the dark, empty parking lot, it seemed extra creepy. “No, you weren’t,” he told her. “Just the opposite, in fact. But when I saw a young lady driving way too slowly, I was suspicious. License and registration, please.”

Tina searched through her purse and pulled out her wallet. After fumbling for a few seconds, she finally managed to pull her learner’s permit out. “Registration?” she asked, not really sure what that was.

“Look in the glove compartment,” the deputy told her.

She fumbled through the junk her mom kept in that hiding place, which contained no gloves, and finally found what she thought was the registration. “This?” she asked.