Transient Charm

"Where ya headed?" I ask the handsome drifter.

My friend shoots me a glance of 'you retard', but I persist. He's cute. For a scummy hobo. Everyone's got a type.

"Dallas." He replies with transient charm. "Where y'all headed?"

My timid friend, the driver, looks at me with 'fuck off' eyes. "Austin." I reply. "Hop in."

I open the door for the smelly handsome fella and my two girlfriends look at me like I just doomed us all.

"Relax." I say. They don't. Kate, the driver, turns away from me with a sigh, runs her hand through her hair - her trademark stress move.

I open the door for the scrawny yet muscular fellar and he gets in with soaping charm. "Appreciate the ride." He smirks at the back of my friends heads.

"No problem at all." I respond. "You from here?"

He laughs something awkward and my friends turn at the abrupt noise with fright. "Shit, I wish. Anywhere's better than where I'm from."

I turn cockeyed at him. "Well don't leave us in the dark." Kate starts down the county highway, merges into traffic. "Where ya from?"

He makes a face that's hard to like. "Heard 'a Juarez?"

I can feel my friends discomfort upfront. "Yup." I reply with controlled tone.

"Well, I'm from there."

After that no one says anything for about 30 or so miles. We let the shitty country music do the talking.

"What brings you up here?" I ask. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

"Didn't tell ya." He answers with a smirk, leans back real comfortable. "I's here to kill white girls. Like y'all."

My friends turn and see him smiling back at them, broken teeth and face tattoos.