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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Comedy · #1631528
If you haven't read the first, please do do, as it will give you the additional info.
Chapter Two: Slashed Bike Tires

I knocked on the door. After a moment, it opened to a tired looking man, around his mid-to-late-thirties, who smelled strongly of bacon. I assumed he was Rebecca’s father.

“Can I help you?” he asked in a weary voice.

“Umm. I’m here for Rebecca. We were gonna ride to school.”

Eyeing my Korn T-shirt suspiciously, the man frowned. “Hold on.” The door shut. After several moments, the door opened again. “Come inside to wait.”

“Thank you.” Walking after him, I shut the door behind me. The room was well furnished, if a bit messy. There was a big brown table pushed over to the wall, with chairs surrounding three sides of it. The kitchen entrance was to the left of the table.

“Do you have a license?” I shook my head. “Who’s driving you, then?” he asked me inquisitively.

“Nobody,“ I answered. Seeing his confused look, I added, “We were gonna ride our bikes.”

This frown disappeared. “Oh, I see. Well, make yourself comfortable. She’ll be a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” I said, sitting down at the table. The man disappeared through a doorway to the left of the kitchen. I set my bag at my feet. As I was looking down at the table, I heard someone come into the room. It was Rebecca. She was wearing a bright red shirt with skull and crossbones on the front, and brown pants with a chain belt.

“Hi,” She said cheerfully.

“How can you be happy at this hour? It’s six-sumethin’. I think you’re insane.”

“Want something to eat?” she laughed.

“No, thanks. You’ve ruined my appetite with your cheerfulness.”

“Come on, have something.”

“I already ate,” I said irritably.

“Okay, okay. Don’t be such a grouch! Well, I’m eating some pancakes, even if you’re not… Did you know that pancakes are actually very old? Yeah, the Egyptians were the first to make them. They were called ‘Jharghs’. The pioneers ate them, as well, but they called them ‘hotcakes’. And did you know that the-”

“My God, woman! Shut up! You should be arrested for being so cheerful, this early in the morning! I’m calling the FBI.” Someone laughed, and I turned to see Rebecca’s father walking back through the doorway, looking much more awake. Which probably had something to do with the water dripping down his face.

“We’ve told her that, I don’t know how many times! Maybe she’ll listen to you. What did you say your name was, again?” He stuck his hand out.

“Oh, I didn’t. I’m Allan,” I said, taking his hand. “My family moved in next door.”

“Ah, yes. Good to meet you, Allan. I’m ‘Becca’s father, Jared. So, why’re you bikin’ to school, instead of takin’ the bus?”

“W—“

“He saved me from getting raped, Daddy!” Not surprisingly, there was an awkward silence after that.

“I’m sorry,” Jared said, after regaining his wits. “He did what, exactly!?”

Some woman (Rebecca’s mother, I assumed) stuck her head out from out of the kitchen doorway. “This oughta be good,” she remarked dryly. I sighed and rubbed my temples. Why, God? Why me, of all people?

“Well, Ray, you know about Ray, right? Yes? Well anyway, Ray and some of his friends surrounded me after school, and started telling me what they’d do to me, if I was ever in his seat again. Then I said I’d sit wherever I wanted to, and he said something else bad to me, so I told him to shove it. Then he grabbed my arm-“

“So that’s why your arm is bruised!”

“No, that was because of Allan. See, Allan came over and said ‘Dude, Ray, don’t be such a frikin’ punk. Have a little respect for my friend, here, please. Thank you. Let’s go, Rebecca.’ Then—”

“Holy shit! You actually remembered all of that?”

“You said that did you?” This from Rebecca’s mother.

I nodded. “With a slight variation, yes. I said the first thing that popped into my mind. Unfortunately, that’s one of my bad habits.”

“So then he grabbed my arm” Rebecca said, taking control of the conversation once more. “And pulled me past the busses, and we ran for a few blocks, then we walked the rest of the way, and talked and—” She glanced at me furtively and flushed, which her father didn’t miss. “Anyway, he took me into his house and gave me some ice and made me a sandwich and then suggested that we ride together to school, so that we stay away from Ray. So here we are!” She smiled around at all of us.

I yawned. Jared wore a bemused look on his face. Rebecca’s mother snorted contemptuously. “That sounds so ridiculous that it could actually be true!” Her head disappeared back around the corner. “Bacon, uh… Rebecca’s friend?”

I sighed. “Why not? My name’s Allan, by the way,”

“Alright. I’m Cassandra. Pancakes?”

“That’s alright. I—“

“No, please. Have some, we’ve got plenty. Besides,” she added slyly. “You saved our daughter from being raped.” She chuckled.

“Alright then, if you insist. But, you’ll have to accept dinner at my house.”

“Tonight?”

“Umm. Yeah. Tonight.”

“Shouldn’t you at least consult your mother, since she’ll be the one—“

“What? My mother? Cook?” I laughed. “Yeah right. I’m the one who cooks, not my parents.”

“Oh really? Well, I just assumed that—“

“That’s alright. It’s all cool. So how’s… Six work for you?”

“Six? Yeah, that’ll work.”

“Cool.”

“You’re inviting us over for dinner?” Rebecca asked. “Really?”

“Yeah, well, I have no doubt that I’m gonna be seein’ a lot of you anyway so, I might as well get to know your family. My parents need friends anyway…”

“Are you saying that you wanna be friends?”

“Actually,” I replied coldly, “I don’t seem to have much of a choice in the matter…”

“You like me!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around me. “You really like me!”

“Get offa me,” I snapped irritably. “Eat your food,” I added as Cassandra placed our ‘Jharghs’ in front of us.

“What should we wear?”

“I don’t care. Hell, you can all come in sweatpants if you want.” We all laughed.

After we’d finished our pancakes and said our goodbyes, we left the house. Going over to our bikes, I told her, “Y’know, you should really buy some curtains for your window.”

“Why?”

“Because I, um, saw you. Last night. At two-thirty.”

“Oh my God, you saw me?” As I nodded, she blushed fiercely. “What did you see?”

“Oh, I saw you in, uh, your, uh, undergarments. Then you, ah, took of your bra. But I didn’t see anything else, of course,” I added quickly, seeing her open her mouth to speak. “I was just warning you of your, uh, exposé.”

She said nothing, but mounted her bicycle, which happened to be the same Huffy as mine, except it was black, while mine was blue. Then we were off. The trip was uneventful. Once we got to school, and stuck our bikes on the racks (we had to share my lock; Rebecca didn’t own one) Rebecca grabbed my arm, and hauled me around the corner.

“The hell are you doing? Let go.”

“Shh! I saw Ray!”

Oh, I mouthed. Peeking around the corner, I saw that she was right. There he was, talking to his friends, lounging in front of the school. “Damn,” I sighed. “Well, we might as well get to class…” She took me around to the side door, and we went to class. After the bell rang, Ray walked into English. As he passed us, he glared in our direction. During the whole class, I was wondering what was going to happen. Nothing did until lunch.

I got my tray and food (without stealing any) and sat down at the table I had sat in the day before. After a minute, Rebecca sat down beside me.

“Why are you following me?” I asked. “Don’t you have any friends?”

“Yeah, but they said they don’t wanna sit with me today, because they don’t wanna deal with Ray.” Grumbling under my breath, I ate my food with steady flow of chatter coming at me from Rebecca. Her voice was actually very nice. It reminded me a little bit of Dennise. Lost as I was in my musings, I didn’t hear Ray approaching until he sat down at our table.

“Y’know, bitch, I’d always wondered. Is it true that an emo’s cum tastes like blood?” A few people laughed.

Looking over, I saw Rebecca turn a deep scarlet. Without thinking, I responded, “When a son pokes his mother, will the baby look just like the father? Or the son?” There was a sudden silence in the lunchroom.

Ray paled in anger. “You motherfucker,” He yelled at me, leaping to his feet. “You’ll pay fer that! You and-“

“Hey,” a sharp voice barked. “What’s going on here?” A tall man, wearing a suit, with sandy colored hair was looking at Ray.

“He just insulted my mother, Mr. Smith,” he said, pointing at me.

Mr. Smith turned to me. “Is this true, young man? Did you insult Ray’s mother?”

Standing up slowly, I looked Mr. Smith straight in the eye. “Yes, sir. I did.”

“Come with me, young man.”

“Sir, he-“ Rebecca began.

“Please be quiet Ms. Haster. Come with me, young man,” he said to me again.

I didn’t move. “No.”

“What did you say?”

Ignoring his question, I asked one of my own. “Don’t you wanna know why I insulted his mother?”

After speaking quietly into his walkie-talkie, he said, “No, I want you to come with me right now, before I call your parents.”

Chuckling under my breath, I said, “He insulted me, Rebecca, and all the emos around the world. That’s why I insulted his mother.”

“Young man, we have a policy in this school, so even if he di—“

“Fuck your goddam policy! If someone insults me, I’ll sure as hell insult them right back!”

“You are already heading for three days out of school suspension, young man. Do you really want more than that?”

“So I get suspended, while the little prick that started this shit gets no punishment? Is that how your so-called policy works? Those kids whose parents donate money get extra special treatment? Isn’t that right, Mr. Smith?”

He blanched at the implied insult. “Mr. Rallman did exactly as I asked him without giving me any trouble. You, on the other hand, disobeyed a direct command from the principal.” At this point in the conversation, a police officer stepped into the lunchroom. “Please escort this young man to my office.” The cop nodded.

“Fuck you. I haven’t done anything more than Mr. Rallman, here,” I said, gesturing at said person. “So if I go, he goes, too.”

Rebecca jumped up, tired of being ignored. “And me! I’ll go, t-”

“Shut up, Rebecca.” She made an indignant noise. “You haven’t done anything wrong, so you don’t need to come with us.”

Mr. Smith let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Would you please accompany us, Ray?” Ray’s smug look vanished.

“B-but, I-”

“If you don’t come with us, neither will this nuisance. Don’t worry Ray, you’re not in trouble.”

As I followed the cop out of the room, I began laughing. “A nuisance, eh? Oh, I’ll be more’n a nuisance. Trust me…”

“Is that a threat,” growled the cop.

“Shut up. I’m not threatening anyone.”

We came to the principal’s office and the principal went in and sat down. As there were no chairs, Ray and I remained standing. The cop stood outside the door. Mr. Smith got out a tape-recorder and clicked it on.

“Alright, we’ve got to make this all official, so here goes: I am here to listen to the statements of Ray Rallman and…” I quirked an eyebrow at him, somewhat amused at his loss of words. “Your name please.” Smirking, I told him. “And Mr. Allan Hartie. We also have policeman Gordon as a witness. Officer? Good. Well, we’ll start with you first, Ray. What happened? Start with when you entered the lunchroom, until I entered the room.”

“First, I came in the lunchroom and got my food and looked for a place to sit.” The sound of his gravelly voice made me want to tear out his throat. “Then I saw that Rebecca and Allan, here sitting together.” He glanced at me with a look that said ‘I’m in control of the situation, and there’s nothing that you can do about it.’ I smirked right back “Well, I sat down at the table and tried to talk to the—“

“What did you say to them?”

“I dunno. I don’t really remember.”

“Bullshit! Don’t remember my ass!”

“Please be patient, Mr. Hartie.” This was the policeman. “You’ll get your turn. And please don’t curse. It’s against school policy.” I grunted, glaring at him.

“What happened next, Ray?”

“Well he said to me, ‘When a son pokes his mother, will the baby look just like the father? Or the son?’” When he paused, to let Mr. Smith respond. I rolled my eyes. He can’t remember what he said, but he can remember what I said? Tch. Whatever. The principal motioned him to continue. “Then I told him that he’d pay for that, and then you walked in.”

“Hmm… That was Mr. Ray Rallman’s statement. Now it’s Mr. Allan Hartie’s statement.”

“Well, first of all I wish to let it be known that Mr. Rallman is a complete fu-friggin’ liar!”

“Just tell your version of the story,” Mr. Smith snapped at me. I noticed hat he emphasized the word story.

I scowled at him. “I would also like to announce that Rebecca be here as well, for she was included in the insult given to us.” He sighed. “Fine. I entered the auditorium, got my food, and sat down. After a minute, Rebecca sat down next to me. She began talking to me, so that I didn’t hear Mr. Rallman walk up. As he sat down, he said— Oh, by the way, if I’m gonna tell the story, I have to have permission to curse.”

“Fine. Just keep it short,” he said in icy tones.

“Thank you,” I replied coolly. “Well, he said to Rebecca ‘Y’know, bitch, I’d always wondered. Is it true that an emo’s cum taste like blood?’ So, in retaliation, I said to him, as he said before, ‘When a son pokes his mother, will the baby look just like the father? Or the son?’ Then he jumped up and said to me ‘You Motherfucker! You’ll pay fer that!’ And then you walked into the room. And that’s that.”

He looked back and forth between us. “You’re both sure that’s all?” Ray nodded, but I shook my head.

“Actually it isn’t, as a matter of fact. Yesterday he told Rebecca… What was it? Oh yes… It was ‘…You fuckin’ bitch! I’m gonna tear yer fuckin’ head offa yer shoulders, if ya talk like that ta me again!’ Apparently, he also said that he’d ‘fuck her ‘till her eyeballs fell out!’ And that she talks so much that he’d like to ‘rip her tongue out and lick her cunt raw with it!’ I think that that’s all.”

Smith glanced at Ray reproachfully. “Is there any reason why he would say something like that?”

“Yes there is! See, yesterday on the bus Rebecca, was in the seat that Mr. Rallman wanted to sit in, so he told her to get out of it, so she, wanting to avoid further conflict with him, got out and sat next to me.”

“That’s all a lie,” Ray yelled at Smith. “I never said anything like that to either of them!”

“Relax, Ray. Calm down,” he said soothingly. He turned back to me. “Now, this is a very serious accusation. Is there anyone who would say the same thing?”

“Umm, Yeah. Rebecca would!”

“Since she is involved in this, we’ll need someone else to testify against him.”

The bell rang, startling me. Then I saw his plan. “Yeah, just about everyone on the bus heard him! But nobody’ll say anything against him!”

“Now Mr. Hartie, what exactly are you getting at? I’m sure that if this is the truth, then many people will say the same thing…” He smiled at me. “Now, we’ll need someone else to say something about this whole insult problem. Mrs. Bernie, please.” The police officer left. He picked up the tape recorder and clicked it off. “Now, Mr. Hartie, if you’ll please excuse my frankness, but you’re up to your ears in shit. If you would please refrain from making more trouble, then we won’t have to make trouble for you, if you get my meaning…” Ray cracked his knuckles threateningly and glowered at me.

“I knew that this whole thing was fake.” I slammed my fist down on the desk, making the whole thing shake. “You won’t get away with this! I am not to be fucked with.”

Mr. Smith smirked. “I admire your courage, Mr. Hartie, but if you insist on pursuing this, then you’ll have to pay the consequences. Please refrain from telling anyone about our little conversation.” He clicked the tape recorder back on.

After a moment of silence, the cop came back in, followed by the lunch lady. “Right then. Mrs. Anne Bernie has come to testify as to what really happened in the lunchroom. Mrs. Bernie?”

I didn’t hear anything past “Well, let’s see, now…” I was so intensely concentrating on my inner fuming. That is, until Mrs. Bernie said, “…But Mr. Hartie, here, was the first to speak, if I remember correctly.”

“What!? I was not—“

“Mr. Hartie, please. You’ve already had your turn to speak. You’re sure? Yes? Thank you, Anne. You may return to your duties now…” As the door closed behind her, the principal turned back to me. “As for you, Mr. Hartie. Since you are new to our school, you may not know all the rules. Therefore, this will be your one-and-only free pass. Please do not curse, say anything rude, or make false accusations,” he smiled ruefully at me as he wrote us both notes to excuse our tardiness. “Either of you. You may both go.”

Ray smirked and swept out of the room. Moving somewhat more slowly, I stared at Mr. Smith defiantly. “Oh, and if you will be so kind as to tell Mrs. Telly at attendance to join me. Thank you. Good day, Mr. Hartie.” Without another word, I stormed out of his office. As I passed Mrs. Telly, I told her that Mr. Smith wanted to see her. I had my hand on the door handle when I suddenly got a dangerous idea.

Turning around, I saw that I was alone in the office. Before I could talk myself out of it, I strode over to the desk, reached over, and leafed through the papers on it. After a moment, I found what I was looking for. Quickly stuffing the envelope in my pocket, I raced out the door and ran to the lunchroom. I strode over to my backpack, and quickly stuffed the envelope down to the bottom, inside my Snoopy box. Then I went to science.

“What happened?” Rebecca asked, as I sat down in front of her. “What took you so long? Did you get in trouble? Did Ray? Did you make out with Mr. Smith?”

“I jus— what!?” I turned around to glare at her. “What the fuck did you just say?!”

“Don’t you know? Mr. Smith is gay.” I looked at her dubiously. “No, really. He’s homosexual. There were some rumors about him going around, and one day he just announced that he was gay.”

“…That’s screwed up.”

“What, because he’s gay? Do you have something against gay people?”

“Me? No. But yes. It’s screwed up because he’s gay. I thought…” I looked at the teacher, standing a few feet from us, lecturing about the importance of scientific models, and shook my head. “Never mind. I’ll tell you later.”

After the teacher was finished lecturing and we began working on more homework, I got out my Zune and began listening to Avenged Sevenfold’s song Critical Acclaim while pretending to do work.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I turned around irritably, yanking one of my headphones from my ear. “What!?”

“Will you tell me now?”

“Tell you what?”

“About it being screwed up about Mr. Smith being gay, but that you don’t hate gay people, and that you thought…”

“What? I— No. I already told you that I’d tell you later… As in not during school,” I added, seeing her open her mouth.

“Oh. OK,” She said, looking hurt that I lost my temper with her.

“By the way, how many people are comin’ over?”

“Huh? Oh, five. Me, my mom, my dad, my sister, my other sister, and my brother.”

“Umm. That's six people comin' over, not five.”

“Oh. It is, isn’t it?” Replacing my headphone, I continued listening to Avenged Sevenfold (now playing Scream). The rest of my classes went without confrontation. When I got to the bike rack, I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Motherfucker!” This came not from me, but from Rebecca. Both tires were slashed on her black bike. “Whoever did this, I’m gonna fucking kill you!” I snorted contemptuously. She does curse, then. She turned to me. “Don’t you even think about laughing, Cookie-Boy!"

“I’m not laughing— what!? You just call me Cookie-Boy?” She nodded, with a half-smile on her lips. “Hm. Well. That’s a first… OK. Anyway, I wasn’t laughing at you, I was laughing at Ray. He slashed the wrong tires. He was going for mine.”

“Why was he going for yours? What did you do to him? Did you piss him off that badly? How’d he get the wrong bike? Are you sure it was him? Well I’m just gonna—”

“Shut the hell up! You’re not helping. And you’re not ‘just gonna’ anything. Now get on the bike.”

“My tires are slashed, see?”

I sighed heavily. “My bike, not yours.”

“What’ll you ride, then?”

“My feet. I’ll walk your bike home, while you ride mine.”

“Oh, Allan!” She wrapped her arms around me. “You try hard not to show it, but you really do care!”

“Get offa me,” I snapped at her. “I do not care about you. But I did sort of bring this on you, so it’s the least I can do.” When she opened her mouth to say something else, I barked, “On the fuckin’ bike!” at her. With a harrumph in my direction, she mounted my bike and sighed. As we walked home, she chattered away at me with that squirrel-like tendency hers.

When we got to our street, we traded bikes and went to our separate houses. “Bye, Caring-Cookie-Boy!” Rolling my eyes, I decided that I was going to poison her food.

After turning on Slipknot (Before I Forget) I began to peel and chop potatoes and stick them in a pot full of water, which I then put on to boil. I then proceeded to cook shell noodles with Velveeta cheese melted on top and chunks of beef mixed in with it. Then the corn went on the side. After the potatoes were done boiling I mashed them and made beef gravy with the leftover beef, and it’s grease.

I got out the spare chairs from the garage and stuck the extra leaf in the middle of the table. Then the door opened. “Hey, Penny.”

“What’re you so happy for?” She asked suspiciously. “You’re never happy.” She had dark, dark blonde hair that hung to her waist and flashing blue-green eyes. She was wearing a short skirt and v-necked tank top.

“I’m not happy, but we’re having company over, so you can’t go… Wherever it is you normally go… Change your slutty skirt too, please,” I added, although I knew she wouldn’t let our parents see her in her clothes, anyway.

‘How dare you! This is my favorite skirt. Don’t call it slutty!”

“Are you kidding? It comes to your upper thigh. Just, please change into something else. Like pants. Or at least a skirt that comes down to your knees. That also means that we’ll be eating at the table, tonight.” She flipped her hair at me and stalked out of the room. I sighed.

As I went around the table putting out utensils, my parents came back. “Hi, Honey. What’re you doing?” My mom was wearing a light blue and yellow striped long sleeved shirt and tan slacks; she had short black hair and blue eyes. My dad was wearing a navy blue short-sleeved shirt with jeans; he had dark blonde hair and green eyes, with a week’s worth of stubble lining his jaw.

“We’re having company over, so I‘m setting the table.”

“Company?” My dad asked. “Who? And why are you inviting people over without our permission, anyway?”

“Because without me, none of you would eat. And because I was invited over for breakfast, and decided t repay the favor.”

“You?” My mom looked at me dubiously. “Someone invited you over for breakfast?”

“Yes,” I replied in icy tones. “I was invited for breakfast. You got a problem with that?”

“No, of course not,” she said quickly, trying to steer me from an argument. “Who did you say was coming over, again? And when?” She asked me.

“I didn’t. The neighbors are coming over at six. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I said, glancing at my phone, “I have a couple more things left to do.” Checking the fridge, I saw that we were out of milk. “Shit,” I muttered to myself. In a louder voice, I asked, “Can I borrow the car, dad?”

“What for?”

“We’re outta milk.”

He thought about it for a minute. “Come right back, you understand?”

“Fine.” He tossed me the keys and five dollars. At the store, I got a gallon of milk and a bottle of sparkling cider, which amounted up to seven dollars and fourteen cents. “Cheap motherfuckers,” I muttered to the steering wheel.

When I got home, I opened the door to Rebecca’s voice saying, “…And these are my brother and sister, Joshua, he’s seventeen, and Alice, she’s thirteen. Lilly couldn’t make it…”

“Nice ta meet’cha. I’m Penny. And— Oh, here’s Allan.” I was relieved to see that Penny had changed into blue jeans and a white blouse.

“Hi, Cookie-Boy! Where were you? We’ve been waiting for a whole minute and a half for you!” They all chucked at her weak joke. Around her were clustered Jared, Cassandra, and a guy and girl I didn’t know. I assumed that these were Joshua and Alice.

“Hi, I’m Allan,” I said to Joshua as I stuck out my hand.

“Call me Josh,” he said, shaking my proffered hand. He was wearing baggy black pants and a dark green shirt with Akon on the front.

“Cool.”

“And I’m Alice,” said the girl. She was dressed in a mid-calf length blue skirt with matching blouse.

“Good to meet you. Hello, Jared. Cassandra. Dinner’s done, if you wanna come in and sit down.”

“Thank you. I think we will. What’re we having?”

“Umm. It doesn’t really have a name. Noodles, mashed potatoes and gravy, and corn.”

“That sounds really good, Cookie-Boy. I didn’t know that you could cook more than cookies. What else can you cook? Does it all taste good? Is it health food? I don’t like health food; it tastes weird. Don’t you think so? I think so. And—”

“Rebecca,” I said, clenching my jaw and balling my shaking hands into fists. “Just sit down. Please.” As she moved toward her seat, her parents laughed. I went into the kitchen and got ten plates out. Dishing them up, I took them out three at a time. “Drinks? Anyone? We’ve got milk, sparkling cider, orange and apple juice, and water. Beer and wine for the older guests. It’s Lambrusco, and Coors,” I added, seeing Cassandra’s questioning glance.

Rebecca and Alice wanted milk, Penny wanted the cider, my mom, dad, and Jared wanted beer, and Cassandra wanted the Lambrusco. Josh asked for a beer. I glanced questioningly at Jared and, seeing him nod, got him a beer, too. I had milk.

“This is delicious, Allan,” Cassandra remarked. “You made all this by yourself?” I nodded with a small smile.

“These noodles are pretty good, Allan.” I frowned minutely, sensing rather than hearing, Josh’s voice tinged with faint sarcasm. Looking briefly at him I saw that he smirked disdainfully.

“Yes, this is very good. How do you get that taste in the potatoes?”

I smiled crookedly. “I use seasoning salt mixed with my own special concoction.”

“What is it?” Cassandra demanded eagerly.

My smile turned cruel. “Can’t tell you. Otherwise it wouldn’t be ‘my recipe’ any more. But,” I added, forestalling her next demand. “I will give you some seasoning salt mixed with it, if you’d like.”

“Oh, yes. Please.” I went into the kitchen and retrieved the seasoning salt. “Thank you.”

“So,” my mother began. “How do you two know each other?”

Rebecca’s eyes lighted up. “Well, he s-” I cut her off with a glare and a shake of my head. “He helped me out in Home Ec.?” I nodded. “Yeah, we won a contest to see who could bake the best cookies. We won because of Allan.”

“Ah, I see. Yeah, that’s totally believable. I haven’t known him to lose anything except Monopoly, Pounce, Yatzee, and anything to do with math.”

After that the conversation turned, thankfully, to our parent’s jobs. After we were all done Josh, Alice, and Penny excused themselves, because they had a game to get to. Our parents began talking about the price of gas, so Rebecca and I excused ourselves and went upstairs to my room. I hesitated in front of the door. I was remembering. Then I shook my head and let her in.

“Well it’s, uh, nice. I guess.” The room was messy, with clothes scattered around on the floor, papers lying everywhere and boxes stacked in piles. “Hey,” she exclaimed, spying my guitar and rushing over to it. “Now you can play for me!”

I snatched the guitar away from her. “That’s not why I brought you up here. Do you remember when I said it was screwed up that the principal was gay?” She nodded vigorously, sitting on my bed. “Well, I said that it was screwed up because he’s also crooked.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? He’s a dick, yes, but he’s not breaking any laws, unfortunately.”

“Oh, yes he is. He’s taking bribes.” I summed up what he told me and how he stopped the tape-recorder when the cop left, and ending with him letting me go with just a warning.

“But you can’t prove that he’s taking bribes. Maybe he was just making sure that you don’t cause anymore trouble by getting on your good side…”

“No? Well let’s just see about that.” I took out the envelope and showed it to her. It was to the school, and it was from Mrs. Rallman.

“Where did you get this,” she demanded.

“The office, of course. Where else?”

“Do you really think that it’s a bribe?”

“Well, just one way to find out.” I opened the envelope and pulled out a check of twenty-five dollars for Ray’s lunch and… fifteen twenty-dollar bills! Rebecca gasped. “…I knew it.” Shaking my head, I stuck the money back in. “I’m gonna get those bastards back. No one threatens me and gets away with it!”

“Allan, please just forget about this.”  She said softly. “No one got hurt, so don’t pursue it.”

“Rebecca, he was fucking with us, and if we don’t do anything, he’ll win. And he’ll keep fucking with us. I mean, he threatened to rape you. And he seemed like he meant it, too. Do you really think that he should get away with that?”

“No, but… I’ve just got a bad feeling about this.” She frowned and reached out to grab my arm. “Just, please promise me that you won’t do anything that could get you hurt.” Our eyes locked, and I saw compassion. It was not pity or disgust, like I see in most people’s eyes. It was actual compassion. I turned away.

“Well, it’s time to go. I can hear my parents calling me.” I stuffed the envelope under my mattress, then got up and followed her out of my room, shutting the door behind me. We walked down the stairs and I said that I was going walk them home.

“Well, OK. It’s only seven-thirty. Just be back by eight at the latest. It was nice to have met you. Bye.”

As we were walking, Jared said, “Well, your parents seem nice. We’ve got a lot in common, too.”

“Yeah, I thought you might. And, just wait until you know them for a week, or so. You’ll tire of ‘em pretty quick.” Everyone laughed except Rebecca. She was rather quiet, actually, so very different from her normal self. “Well, I hope to have you over more often, if that cool.”

“Oh, yes. I think we might come over just to enjoy your splendid cooking, Allan. Do you intend on a profession in the culinary arts? You could go far.”

“Actually, I have. I think that I just might, actually. I rather enjoy cooking.”

“Well, good then. That makes two of us.”

“Three,” Jared added.

“Four,” Rebecca finally piped up.

“I mustn’t give in to peer pressure,” I muttered in a loud voice. “I must say ‘no’.” We all laughed, this time. Even Rebecca.

After we came to their house and said our goodbyes, Rebecca leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Remember what I said and be careful. Oh, and by the way. I meant for you to see me the other night. Remember, at two-thirty? I wanted you to see me…” She turned around I stared at her retreating form. After the door shut, I just stood there for a couple minutes. When I finally regained enough of my wits I started walking back to my house. When I got back, I went straight up to my room and looked at the money again. I stared at it for a full ten minutes before finally sighing and replacing the envelope and it’s contents in my Snoopy box.

I grabbed my guitar and began randomly strumming, thinking about what Rebecca said to me. When I thought about it, I got a strange feeling, too; one that I didn’t like. Not one bit. Especially when I remembered the emotion in her eyes. I didn’t know what to do. Should I do what I would normally do? Or should I listen to Rebecca. I paused. Wait a minute. How long have I known her? Two days? I’ve only known her for two Goddam days, and I’m already taking her words over my own? What’s wrong with me? Right then and there, I decided that I wouldn’t listen or think about her anymore! But then the last thing she said to me popped back into her mind. “I meant for you to see me…  Remember, at two-thirty? I wanted you to see me…” The words kept playing through my head, like a broken record.

After a while, I stood up and took off my shirt. Then I looked out my window. And there was the girl who plagued my thoughts. She looked over at me and smiled, as she removed her own top and dropped her skirt, revealing bra and panties. After doing so, she turned her light off and climbed into bed. Frowning, I removed my pants and turned my own light off. Climbing into bed, I heard the words to the new song that I’d downloaded onto my phone last night. …Sex, Drugs, and Rock N’ Roll, I got a feelin’ down in my Soul, yeah! Sex, Drugs, and Rock N’ Roll, you’re never too young, you’re never too old, yeah!

I looked at the name. It was Dennise. Flipping my phone open, I said “Hey, Babe. What’s up?”

I heard a relieved sigh. “Allan? Allan, I’m scared. So scared”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I just got this horrible feeling that something bad is gonna happen to you. And I… I don’t want anything bad happening to you!”

“Denny, I’ve said this before. You need to let me go. We’re on different sides of the US. Plus your parents hate me. No, we wont see each other again. Get a boyfriend. I want- no, I need you to have someone there who can comfort you when you need it!”

“But I want-”

“Please,” I said. “Get over me. I don’t wanna hurt you,” Again, I added silently “Do it for me.”

“Okay… I-I’ll try.” Click! I hurt her, but it was better that way. She didn’t need to be with me. Not any more. I’d hurt her too much, already… Taken too much away that could never be regained. No, she was much better off without me.
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