Author's Note: This came into my head after watching Alpha Dog and then seeing a dead armadillo on the road while driving to get some food. Drug possession is in this story. Enjoy.

Murphy's Law

It all started with an armadillo in the road. At one o'clock in the morning. A fucking armadillo in the middle of the road at one o'clock in the morning. I'd be driving for hours. Hours. I wasn't in the mood act all humanitarian and swerve for ugly looking creatures in the road.

"Oh my God!" My girlfriend, Summer Season (no seriously…that's her name), squealed after the car bumped up and then down. "Dale, you just ran over something!"

I gave her a sideways glance. "No I didn't."

She made a horrified sound. "Yes you did, Dale! Pull over the car!"

"No. I'm not pulling over the car. We've got places to get, Summer."

"Pull over the fucking car, Dale!"


"Dale, pull over the car."

"No, Summer."

"What if you, like, ran over a person?"

I pushed the brakes. It was bad enough I had bags of weed in the trunk. I didn't need a murder on my hands. Summer looked pleased with herself when I backed up and parked on the shoulder.

"Get the flashlight," she told me. "It's dark."

"I don't have time for this shit, Summer," I muttered as we walked toward the object in the middle of the road. "I need to be in Vegas by seven."

"Yes, I know…you need to do your job…" She clicked on the flashlight. "Drug dealing must be really hard…"

"Shut the fuck up," I growled at her. I normally wasn't this hostile toward Summer, but she was pissing me off and I was in desperate need of sleep, not to mention the fact that if I didn't give Willie his stuff by seven, he'd have my ass on a platter.

"It's an armadillo!" Summer cooed, squatting on the side of the road. "Ew. A dead armadillo." She glanced up at me. "You ran over an armadillo."

"So?" I quirked an eyebrow at her, unfazed. "What do I care? It's an armadillo."

"It's an animal, Dale," she protested. "You killed an animal. A harmless creature, who was probably getting food for his family or something—"

"Oh," I groaned, "not this hippie shit again."

"Hey!" She stood up to her full height, pointing a finger at me. "I am not a hippie. I just don't think that this is right."

I ran a hand over my head. "What the hell do you want me to do, Summer?" I yelled, frustrated. "Give him a fucking funeral?"

She crossed her arms. "You could at least act like you care."

"I don't, Summer. I don't give a fuck about a dead armadillo." I turned and started to walk back to the car. "Now, I'm going to get back in the car and drive so that I won't get my ass kicked tomorrow for not bringing Willie his shit, okay?"

"Fine." Summer bristled. "That's fine. You do that, Dale."

"I will," I yelled, pulling out my keys. As I was starting the ignition, I glanced in the rear view mirror and noticed that Summer was hunched over the dead armadillo. In a surprise move, she picked it up, and walked over to the dirt at the edge of the road. "Oh, fuck," I muttered. "She really is burying the damn thing."

I got out of the car. Summer didn't look surprised to see me, when she was done giving the armadillo the funeral. In fact, she just gave me a smug smile. "You could have left, Dale. I would have found a way home."

There was no way I would have left her in the middle of highway at one o'clock in the morning. I loved her too damn much. She didn't need to know that, though.

I just shrugged off her comment. "Whatever, Summer. Let's go."

The moment we got back to the car, we heard sirens. My stomach curled into knots, and the two of us let out strings of curse words.

"Oh, shit." Summer was hyperventilating, fanning herself. "It's the cops, Dale. And you've got bags of marijuana in your car."

"I know that!" I took a deep breath. The cop car pulled over, behind my car. "Just be cool, okay? Be cool, Summer."

She nodded and continued to breath. I cursed under my breath.

Two cops got out. The first one was a big, burly guy with a horribly clichéd moustache, and the other was lanky and had a big head.

"Evening, officers," I called. "Or is it morning? I'm not too sure. Been on the road a while, you see." A laugh escaped my lips. It sounded awfully fake.

The big burly cop noticed, and coughed. "Where you folks headed?"

"Las Vegas," I answered. "Me and the wife are on our honeymoon." I shot a look at Summer, silently begging her to play along. She turned to the police officer and shot him a brilliant smile.

"Is that so?" The burly guy approached me. "You don't have a wedding ring."

I laughed. Shit. I forgot about that. "Yeah…I couldn't afford them."

He arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

I nodded.

"License and registration, please."

I fumbled for the necessary papers, and when I handed it to him, chuckled nervously.

"Well looky here!" There was a whistle from the back of the car. The lanky cop had the hood of the trunk up and was fingering Willie's bag. "We got ourselves a bag of marijuana."

Fuck. I scrambled for an excuse. Summer was desperately trying to keep her cool. "Oh, that. Hahaha." I laughed like a dork. "I've been planting that stuff."

"Shit." Summer hit the roof of the car with her fist. "Stop talking Dale. You're fucked."

"And so are you, little lady." The lanky cop grinned at Summer. "In the car, geniuses."

We were allowed a phone call each when we got to the police station. I didn't really have anybody to call, so I gave my call to Summer, and I didn't know who she called.

I would find out, though.

They didn't separate the two of us, mainly because there were no other open cells, but also because they didn't feel like it. I had to admit, being stuck in a jail cell with my girlfriend wasn't so bad considering the fact that if I had been anywhere else Willie would have had my ass. I figured jail was the safest place.

When I told Summer this, she flipped out.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she spat out, loudly and angrily. "Is this fun to you? 'Cause this isn't fun to me, Dale. I've never been in jail before!"

"Neither have I, Summer, "I returned, my voice rising. "I didn't expect this to happen."

"Well you should have thought about that when you agreed to bring Willie his stuff." She huffed. "Actually you should have thought about it when you agreed to bring Willie his stuff after you got the stuff from your brother." She gave me a pissed off smile. "Your first drug mission didn't go as well as planned, did it?"

"Shut the fuck up, Summer." She had hit a nerve. Yes, I admit I wasn't a drug lord or anything. My brother was the drug lord. He needed me to transport some stuff, so I did. He said that if I did it successfully, I'd get a thousand bucks and the chance to live. It sounded easy enough. "I needed some money. I didn't think it'd be hard to act as a truck driver, okay?"

"If you need money, get a fucking job!" she howled. "It's not necessary to go bring marijuana to your drug-lord brother's cronies."

"You didn't have to come along, Summer," I pointed out. "You're the one who wanted to drive with me."

"Yeah, 'cause I wanted to spend time with you," she admitted. "I didn't think I would be jailed for that."

I didn't respond. Summer and I never really discussed our feelings for one another. She knew that I wasn't a very sentimental guy, but it was an unspoken agreement that we loved each other. I knew I loved her…sometimes I even liked her, which was pretty big considering that before Summer I'd never been able to have an actual conversation with a girl for more time than it took to fuck her. But Summer was different. She wasn't a knock out or anything, somewhat plain looking, but the way she smiled at me and challenged me was amazing.

I eyed her as she sat down on the adjacent bench.

"I love you, Dale," she sighed. It was the first time she'd said it. "I love you enough to drive cross country with a bag of marijuana in the back and then go to jail for it." She glanced at me. "But I don't intend to stay here." She licked her lips. "I called my brother and my dad, Dale."

If I didn't respect her so much, I would have slapped the shit out of her. Instead, I just gawked and screamed in my hands. "Fuck, Summer. Why the hell would you do something like that?"

Summer's family was the epitome of the American Dream. Summer's dad, a hippie and heir to a small fortune, married Summer's mom, a hippie and civil rights activist, sometime during the eighties, changed their last name to Season, and had four kids: Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer. Summer was the youngest, her brother, Fall, was the oldest, and their sisters, Winter and Spring, were twins stuck in the middle. Summer was somewhat of a black sheep in her family due to the fact that she used her Bachelor's Degree from Stanford to open a children's day care center rather than a Fortune-500 company, like her twin sisters.

I hated her family because they judged people. They hated me because I didn't have a job and lived off of my drug-dealing brother. So the idea of her calling any of them for help drove me up the wall.

"Because we need bail money, Dale!" she defended herself. "And we need a lawyer to defend our case! My dad has the money and my brother's a fucking lawyer!"

"Summer, I…fuck," I cursed, shaking my head. "A lawyer? Do we really need that?"

"Yes!" she nearly screamed. "You didn't supply the marijuana! You got it from somebody else!"

"I'm not going to rat my brother out! I fucking live with him!" I jumped up from my seat. "He's got boys, Summer. He could have me killed."

"Is he really going to do that, Dale?"

"He would if I sent him to fucking jail, Summer!"

She pursed her lips. "Look, I called my dad and my brother, and they're gonna be here soon so we can sort this whole mess out. In the mean time, let's not fight, okay?"

I groaned and rubbed the back of my neck. "Fine."

She sighed appreciatively. "Thank you."

Mr. Season and Fall Season got there about an hour and a half later. Summer and I were asleep on a bench. We must have been spooning because I woke up to her brother gagging. I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but Summer shot me a "Be nice!" warning with a painful nudge.

"Season, Mack, you're free to go." The cop opened the jail cell, and I followed Summer out.

She gave her brother and father grateful smiles and hugs. I avoided looking at them. Summer was practically fawning over the men as we walked to their car, expressing thanks and kissing their asses. If it would have been anybody else in any other situation, I would have wanted to shut them up, but I knew Summer was doing this because she had to.

Fall glared at me in the rearview mirror once we were in the car. "You are an asshole, Dale. Taking my sister on a drug mission with you. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wanted to go, Fall," Summer intervened. "It wasn't his fault. Leave him alone."

"Summer, it was because of him you got pulled over." Fall shook his head disapprovingly.

"Actually, Fall," Summer returned loudly, "it was because of me. We ran over an armadillo in the road—"

"—this asshole ran over an armadillo?!?"

I rolled my eyes at Papa Season's comment. He and his daughter were too much alike.

"Daddy, that's not the point," Summer stated before continuing on with her story. "The point is that because we ran over this armadillo, I insisted that we bury him, and Dale waited for me—"

"—how nice of him to not leave you in the middle of the highway." Fall's voice was laced with sarcasm. "You know what, Summer, when I think about it, he should have left you. Because then maybe you wouldn't've been jailed with Fed Ex over here."

"Shut the fuck up, Fall." It was the first words I'd said in hours, and they were weak. I glared at him in the rearview mirror. "You're an asshole."

"Yeah an asshole who bailed you out."

"I didn't ask you to do that, Fall," I told him. "Summer did. As far as I'm concerned, you could have bailed Summer out and left me there."

His jaw flexed, and his eyes practically burned me through the glass of the rearview mirror, but he didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride. Summer entwined our hands and softly kissed my knuckles. I knew the action wasn't meant to be affectionate—if anything she wanted me to calm down a little—but I felt her affection for me in the way she held my hand. I knew she felt my affection for her, too. It was as if our feelings for each other had been channeled into our intertwined hands, and at that point I realized we couldn't hide anything from each other anymore. She knew I loved her, even if I didn't say it.

I squeezed her hand, and she smiled sleepily at me before dozing off.

When we entered the Season's house, I was surprised to see a lumpy figure on the couch. Mrs. Season was probably in her room, and Winter and Spring lived halfway across the country—who was this person?

"Summer!" Louie Wilson, Summer's ex-boyfriend and all-around perfect citizen, smiled a little too happily when we walked into the living room. "It's so good to see you."

Summer nodded at him. She rubbed some sleep out of her eyes. "Hello, Louie."

Mr. Season clicked his tongue. "That's no way to greet Louie here, Summer darling! He drove all the way over here just to see if you were okay!"

"He lives a block away, Daddy."

"Regardless," Mr. Season replied, waving off that factoid, "he still cares, don't you Louie?"

Louie eyed Summer in a way that made me want to gauge his eyes out. "I sure do, Mr. Season."

Fall took this chance to steer me out of the way and show me to his old room, where I would be apparently spending the night. I took off my jacket and climbed into the bed, ignoring Fall as he showed me where the towels and extra sheets were. I closed my eyes and didn't even hear him leave the room.

Something woke me up at the ungodly hour of five in the morning. It wasn't anything that made noise…if anything it was just an eerie feeling I got. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't manage to doze off, so I left the room in search of Summer. I found her on the couch, fighting off Louie as he tried to tongue wrestle with her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I yelled, flipping on the lights. "Get off of my girlfriend, you dickhead!" I scrambled to the couch and pulled him off of her. "I'll kick your preppy ass!"

"She doesn't want you, Mack," he told me, while trying to straighten his clothes. "She wants someone with a job. She wants someone who isn't involved with drugs."

"That's a damn lie, Wilson," I returned, mocking him. "If you're so familiar with what Summer wants, why don't you ask her instead of trying to make out with her?"

"Fuck you, Mack."

"What's all the commotion?" Mrs. Season appeared at the edge of the hallway, tying her robe. "What's all this?"

"Louie here was trying to kiss me, Mom," Summer explained from the couch, tired. "Dale saw him and pulled him off."

Mrs. Season's eyes flashed in my direction. As much as I hated this woman, I felt regret and humiliation at the way she regarded my presence. "Get out of my house." She pointed at me, practically foaming at the mouth. "Out! I will not have you fighting anyone in my house!"

"I wasn't fighting anyone!"

"Mom…come on…this really isn't necessary…"

"He said he was going to kick my ass, Mrs. Season," Louie tattled, smirking.

"Yeah, I'd like to see you try." Summer's mom pursed her lips. "Louie here is a black belt in Tae Kwon Do."

"Louie here got that belt when he was ten, Mom." Summer rolled her eyes. "And if you're going to kick Dale out, you might as well kick me out, too."

Mrs. Season clenched her jaw. "Fine. If you want it that way Summer…get out." She pointed an extended arm towards the door, and started to scream obscenities. I grabbed Summer's hand and the two of us ran out of the house, laughing.

"That was great…" she giggled. "I've never gotten my mom so riled up before." She winked at me. "I like having you around, mister."

I stopped walking. She followed suit and raised her eyebrows at me expectantly. "I love you," I blurted out, nodding. It was the first time I'd said it out loud. "I love you."

Summer just smiled. "I know, Dale."

And with that, we continued to stroll down the sidewalk, laughing at Summer's family.

- Finis

Author's Note: I know it's not very politically correct, sorry. Thanks for reading! Please review!