I have never had a boyfriend. There, that's something juicy you've probably wanted to read from my journal entry. I had my first kiss with a jerk in the night grade back in San Francisco. He was one of those guys that only wanted one thing, and I wouldn't give it to him. It scared me too much to be that close to someone. Besides, I have plans. Plans to give my love someone else. I just hope that it doesn't get taken away from me by guys like that night on the street. I pray that I get to choose who I give it to.
***
"Exactly, that's a perfect way to sum up that paragraph. You need to start filling in the blanks of what you really want to write about though. What's important to you?" My question seems to stump Clay. He rubs his eyes tiredly.
As if he planned for it, his phone begins to ring. He picks it up quickly and presses it his ear. "Hello?" I can hear faint talking coming through the phone. "I'm downstairs, actually.... Yeah... I'll be up in a second." Then he hangs up.
"Everything okay?" I ask as he shuts his laptop. He shoves everything in his backpack and sets the bag on the ground.
"I'll be right back," he says before disappearing behind the counter.
Pete, the boy who works here and has graciously avoided distracting us, walks over to me. He wipes off the counter surface in front of me and smiles. "Good thing you're helping him write that paper. He writes like he's stuck in the fifth grade."
I laugh as I pick up a few saltshakers for him to wipe under. "I figured he could use some help. Are you close with him?"
Pete rolls his eyes. "Unfortunately. We're first cousins, but more like brothers. My parents own the place."
I instantly think about what Clay had told me about his aunt and uncle getting a divorce. They must be the ones that own this place, and they must be Pete's parents. Pete must notice the look on my face, because he shakes his head, chuckling.
"He told you about my parents, didn't he? Don't worry about it. We're gonna get this place back up and running before you know it." Pete tosses his rag over his shoulder as he makes his way over to the register. He soft chocolatey skin and curly black hair that seems go in every direction. I instantly want to know more about him, but mostly...
"What's upstairs?" I ask as I slide over towards him.
"It's an apartment my parents converted a while back. Clay has lived up there for a while now."
I nod my head. "Oh. That's cool." Behind Pete on the wall is a framed picture. While Pete stands in the middle, looking a bit younger than he does now, I believe it's his parents on either side of him. His dad has dark brown skin, a bright smile, and hair just like Pete's, while his mom has fair skin and straight, dark brown hair. They all look so happy. "Listen, if it's any help, my parents are divorced. I promise it does get better."
Pete looks up at me and smiles. "Thanks...?" He trails off, waiting for me to tell him my name.
"Jordan. My name's Jordan."
"Thank you, Jordan. It does help." We here a loud thump from above us and both look up simultaneously. Pete bursts out laughing. "She must be giving him a hard time. Clay and his girl, I'm tellin' you." Giving another short laugh, Pete disappears into the kitchen behind him.
I look back at the door Clay disappeared into. Does he have a girlfriend living with him upstairs? Suddenly I don't feel the need to be here anymore. I helped him with his paper like I promised I would, so now I guess it's time to go. I grab my backpack and put it on as I head towards the door. But looking out the glass door and windows, I see its almost dark. I wouldn't get back to campus before it became dark.
Once again, I feel myself falling backward. For a while, I thought I was done feeling like this. I guess in this place that feels like new although I grew up here, my fears are flooding back into my head.
Inside my backpack is a flashlight I've kept tucked into the bottom since what happened on the street that night. Except this isn't an ordinary flashlight – it's also a taser.
I push the door open and cool evening air brushes past me.
"You need a ride?" I hear Pete call from behind me.
"No, I'll be okay." With the flashlight gripped tightly in my hand, I walk out onto the sidewalk. Just like in the city, cars are going by one after the other. People are getting off work now. Is it sad that my first thought is that there are witnesses around?
Just as I'm about the pass the side of the diner, someone grabs my shoulder. Instantly my finger is on the button that activates the taser. I twist around and shove it directly into the stomach of whoever is behind me. I don't push the button, though. I don't want to use it unless I have to.
I look up into the eyes of Clay, which are wide and full of shock.
I instantly pull back the flashlight. My heart feels as though it could pound out of my chest and I'm on the verge of crying from how scared I was moments ago. I press my hand to my chest just to make sure my heart is still functioning.
"You gave me a heart attack, Clay," I say, exasperated.
"You?" Clay exclaims. "I called your name, but I guess you didn't hear me. What did you just shove into my stomach?" There's a slight smile on his face. "Is that a flashlight?"
I hold it up as if I just now noticed it was in my hand. "Yeah... it's actually a taser."
Just like that, his smile slips from his face. "Are you serious?"
To prove it, I hold up the flashlight and point it towards the building so it's away from us. Then, I press the button and the taser buzzes to life with a loud zap. Clay jumps back a little, his eyes wide.
"You are definitely serious."
I nod my head. "Very. Gotta protect myself one way or another."
"Of course." He runs a hand through his hair. "Anyway, I didn't want you to walk back by yourself. I was gonna give you a ride."
"Oh... I figured you were a little busy." I say this with no shame, since I'm the last person that wants to cause someone to cheat on their girlfriend. I cross my arms over my chest.
"No, it was just a little..." He shakes his head. "I can give you a ride? Actually, I'm going to give you a ride. You don't need to be tasing anyone on the streets." He laughs, putting a hand on my back to show me towards his truck.
"Only the creepers would have to be worried," I explain, trying to force a smile.
Clay laughs as he walks to the driver's side of his truck. "I have no doubt that you're a force to be reckoned with."
I climb into the truck. "You're not wrong."
Clay pulls out onto the street and silence falls between us as he drives me back to my dorm. I don't have much to say. It's not like I have a right to make him the bad guy, he only asked for help on his homework. It was me thinking differently, per usual.
"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off closer?" Clay asks as he pulls up to the same spot he dropped me off at last time.
I smile and wiggle the flashlight at him. "I have backup."
He chuckles and shakes his head. "Right. Well, thanks for helping me with my paper. It was nice just catching up to. We'll have to do it again."
I look over at him, wondering if he's serious or just being polite like most of these southern boys do. I may have moved away for a while, but nothing could make me forget the type.
"Yeah, we should. I've missed-" I stop myself quickly, not wanting to word vomit again. "Okay, well, I'll see you later. Thanks for the ride." I quickly jump out and start walking before he can stop. After a moment, I hear his truck pull away.
I've gotten to be excellent at embarrassing myself.
Just as I pass the row of cars, I hear someone step out from behind me. It's possible that it's just someone getting out of their car, and I don't want to have to explain again why I have a flashlight jabbed into someone's gut again.
But then they grab my arm – hard.
I twist around to see the boy from the tailgate the other week, the one Wren was with. What was his name again? I can't remember now as he's staring me in the eyes.
"Jordan, right?" He asks, slowly letting go of my arm. I grip my flashlight tighter.
"Yeah..." I trail off as I try to remember his name. "Eli?"
He chuckles, finally letting go of my arm. My hand instantly goes to it as I take a few steps back. "Elijah, actually. Not a fan of the nickname."
"Ah," is all I can come up with. I don't want to be a part of this conversation anymore.
"Just wanted to say hi," he replies, smirking. "Wren was talking about not seeing you around anymore since you basically took all our shots." He says this with an uninviting laugh. "I'm just joking. Thought I'd say hey and tell her you're still alive."
I simply nod my head. I can't tell if he really was joking or not, so I force a simple laugh. He tells me goodbye, along with a creepy smile and wave of his hand, and stalks off into the darkness. As soon as he's gone, I hurry into the building and once again am in the same situation as I was the night before.
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The song is: Run by Snow Patrol
