I sighed, tucking away the dark curls that blocked my vision as I bent down to tie my shoelaces. I made a mental note to beg my mother to buy me a new pair this coming weekend, the soles on these were starting to fall apart. I wasn't even sure if I could walk all the way back home in them, but I didn't really have a choice here, did I?
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Jenna held up the curtains, peering out the window, into the dark.
"It's not that late," I assured her, standing up to grab my phone from the living room table. I checked the time. 9:23 pm.
"I could send Paul with you...?" she suggested unsurely, and we both knew she didn't actually mean it. Even if in some wild scenario something did happen, I'd be the one saving her brother rather than the other way round.
I gave her a tight-lipped smile, "I think I'll be good."
She breathed a laugh and handed me my backpack and coat, "text me when you get home."
"Will do," I promised, shrugging on my woolen overcoat. I pushed open the wooden door, throwing Jenna a goodbye over my shoulder. She returned it before closing the door behind me.
The moment I stepped outside, I breathed in and the cold air hit my teeth. I instinctively closed my mouth, my face scrunching up in pain. My dentist said I brushed too aggressively, I was chipping away at the enamel or something. On normal days, I didn't really care, but it was a bitch on unusually cold days like these.
I pulled the coat tighter around myself and started the short walk back home. The night was quiet per usual. One would expect that on weekdays, but our small town wasn't very happening on weekends either. The most entertainment we had was the mall next town over. Life here wasn't the most exciting. I could count the amount of parties I'd been to on one finger. And that was only because Molly's parents are doctors and had to stay the night at the hospital one time.
Some days, after school, I go over to Jenna's to complete my homework. I'm usually back home late and go straight to bed. There's just not much to do around here, which is why the streets were empty even though it was barely past 9 in the night.
Life had always been a bit dry for me, I think. I was almost 18 now and not once had anything exciting happened. Where was the first love people blabbed so much about? The heart-wrenching break-up that made life look gray? Forget love, what about the crazy adventures I was supposed to go off on with my friends? Impromptu camping trips, jumping off cliffs into freezing cold water for the thrill, long drives across the state, things like that. I only read about them in the books as a kid, and ever-since I've been waiting for that life changing moment, the one that makes everything prior to it seem like a waste.
I feel like my life so far has been a waste. A bit pathetic, I'll admit.
I think I was looking for more excitement, something that could come close to matching my fantasy ideal of a teen's everyday life, when I walked straight into a spectacle that would've probably caused Jenna a heart attack had she been here.
About a hundred meters from me, hidden partially in the shadows were two figures that I wouldn't have been able to see, if not for the full moon that night. This alone wasn't what set an alarm off in my head though, no. It was the suspiciously sharp looking object the larger figure seemed to be holding that actually set me on edge.
My heartbeat rapidly rose as the man with the knife started walking closer to the smaller figure of what looked like a young boy. The situation seemed a bit dangerous, and in hindsight, I should've immediately called for the cops. But the rush of something that exciting made me want to play the hero, thinking I could hold myself up against a knife. Stupidity runs in my veins, I guess.
The brilliant plan I'd cooked up within seconds entailed distracting the man long enough to grab the boy and make a run for it. It was foolproof, I swear.
Haphazard thoughts ran through my head, and I settled on the only one that seemed like it could possibly work. I took out my bottle from the side pocket of my bag, thanking God that my mother forces me to use a copper bottle. "Copper is good for your throat," she'd say, and I'd pretend to listen to her list its benefits whilst mentally rolling my eyes. At least now I can add 'great weapon' to her list.
I sneaked closer to the pair, trying my best to stay hidden as I tip-toed just outside of their line of sight. It wasn't too hard, considering they were still quite a few feet away from me. Now, all I had to do was get close enough to chuck my bottle at the man's head, catching him off guard long enough to reach the boy and make a run for it.
Easy-peasy. No additional planning required.
Just as I thought I was close enough to go through with my outstanding plan, the man spoke in a low, but clear voice, "I am a good person. I do not wish to kill my brother."
Huh?
I stopped dead in my tracks, straining my ears to hear the rest of the conversation. Surely, he didn't say what I just think he did. None of the scenarios I could come up with would make what he said make sense.
"That's right," the boy said, sounding mighty satisfied with himself. The sound of his voice and that peculiar accent was a huge giveaway to who the boy was. He continued, "now go back home and never talk about this again."
"Never talk about it again," the man repeated monotonously, nodding and turning around. I watched, dumbfounded as he started walking away as if this conversation didn't actually happen.
"Evan?" I called out once the man was out of earshot, slowly stepping out into his line of sight.
I wasn't sure if I should've been scared or extra careful after seeing that interaction go down. Evan had always been that guy. The one that's got everyone wrapped around his finger, including teachers who seem to enjoy his antics for no explicable reason. The girls seemingly fall for his non-existent charisma, but I still believe the English accent has more to do with them dropping their pants if anything. Sometimes he'll get kicked out for chewing gum in class and flip the teacher off behind his back, inducing a few chuckles around class. But that's the extent of bad I've seen him do.
Evan turned around swiftly, immediately noticing me standing a few feet from him.
"Alexis?" His voice was a little high pitched than normal as he let his eyes adjust to my face. When he realized that it was in fact, Alexis from math class, his face scrunched up, "Shit."
"The hell was that?" I asked, gaining the confidence to walk closer to him now that he had acknowledged me and it didn't particularly look like he wanted to murder me. I kept my bottle handy though, just in case.
He sighed, a long, deep sigh. "Okay listen," he took a step towards me, closing the distance I'd managed to keep between us. I narrowed my eyes, but stayed, out of curiosity as to how he was going to explain this. If he did pull any stunts, my trusty bottle was still in my hand.
But he didn't explain himself like I wanted him to, instead his bright blue eyes bore deep into mine as he said, "go home. Forget this ever happened."
I stared at his face for a second longer, processing his demand. Eventually my brows furrowed, "huh?"
I caught his eyes widening slightly, and he repeated himself, a bit more forcefully this time, "forget this ever happened."
Now I was alarmed. I cautiously took a step back, ready to fight him if I had to, "is that a threat?"
He didn't reply.
He looked at me. I looked at him looking at me. We stood there and silently looked at each other for a little longer.
"Aw, fuck," he said, finally.