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It Didn't Matter
It didn’t really matter that her house was a half-mile away from the school, or that I lived another quarter-mile away from her house in the other direction…meaning I passed my house about halfway through walking to hers. I loved walking Maya home. Hell, I loved walking her to her locker, to her classes, to lunch. If it didn’t seem creepy, I would probably have loved to walk her to the bathroom, too. Walking didn’t even have to have anything to do with it; I loved talking to her, laughing with her. Just standing next to her made me happy. I wanted her to know it, too. That’s why I was especially happy to be walking along the side of the road with Maya on one particular Friday afternoon—I was going to ask her to be my first girlfriend.
I was planning on it, anyway…at some point…probably before we got to her neighborhood…hopefully before I left her at her doorstep. Okay, so I hadn’t really gotten up the cajones to ask her out just yet, but it was all in my head, ready to be executed. I just had to ease her into it. I mean, I’d never asked a girl to even go out on a date with me before, not even to the movies…not even to McDonald’s. Before Maya, I had never permitted myself to dare to fantasize about any girl saying “Yes” to anything. So, you see, it was only natural that taking an easy walk with a beautiful girl on a cool, breezy September day made me sweat bullets.
Of course, it was on that day; of all the possible days of the Augustan, Chinese, and Jewish calendars; that a white van slowly pulled onto the shoulder of the road in front of us. It simply had to be on that day that a short, petite blonde woman who looked quite over her hill in a navy polka-dot dress climbed out the passenger side, all smiles and “Hey, y’all’s!” Of course, it was on that day that a wiry, scrubby man, even further over the hill, got out the driver’s side. And it wouldn’t even make sense if the guy didn’t carry a shotgun, and Maya and I didn’t even see it until we were staring down the twin barrels.
I instinctively moved in front of Maya, my feet spread apart, my eyes roving—searching for a weakness, a hesitation, help—and my hands open and sweaty as I rolled my shoulders back and allowed my backpack to slide off. In retrospect, the only thing I accomplished was looking ready to fight. Two metal circles pressed hard against my chest, and two harder, colder gray eyes bored into my brown ones, matching my resolve with unmistakable malice. His jowls were studded with gray-brown stubble, and his breath smelled, shockingly, of mint. It wasn’t fifty-cent grocery store mint, either.
“You can play Romeo for her if you want, boy, but if I pull this trigger, you’ll both be heartbroken.” If it had been in a movie, or a book, I would have been a little impressed, given the reference to the play’s sadistically tragic end. As it were, even under the slow drawl of a Deep Southerner, it felt odd and geeky, like he’d been running that line through in his head since he woke up this morning and had been just begging for an excuse to use it. It was the eyes that drove the death threat home. Those cool, wary eyes, just as observant as mine, told me that he would not be tricked, unhinged, or surprised. Worst of all, I feared that he did not stop two high school students in a lower-middle class area for cheap thrills and some spare change. At that moment, I sincerely and passionately (though silently) prayed that this man was a closet homosexual and I was about to be booty-bait. Because the alternative was Maya; he couldn’t want Maya. I’d give him a newborn babe so long as he didn’t take Maya!
“Forget it, Adrion! Just let him take whatever he wants.” Maya, to no surprise, was staying calm. But not logical; how could she be worrying about me? No one would bother to abduct me…unless she hadn’t noticed? Oh, shit, she hadn’t noticed! In the end, though, she was right; there was no point in trying to shield her with my body when that shotgun could punch through us both. So I stepped aside. And I watched. I watched him start with Maya, knowing how helpless I would feel; I watched him pull off her backpack and tie her wrists behind her back with a length of cord. I stood and watched him push her into the back of the van, slapping a veined hand across her buttocks when she hesitated. I cringed; she had to know what was going on now. And I had to watch. The biggest shock yet came when the Grey Eyes circled around me—I’ve been quite confident in my lack of any great attractive qualities for years. I didn’t expect them to want me, too.
nerdy
devious
amused
cynical
creative
apathetic
contemplative