Passing the blunt around outside of the closing McDonalds, the two boys rolled the windows down just enough for the cackling laughter to be the only thing faintly covering the quiet midnight streets. The rain pitter-pattered on the window enough to break through the quiet croning of the album the two put on. Little did they know that the police they were so afraid of coming across were out responding to what would soon be found out to be a prank call halfway across the county.
Gazing through the window, the manager was tempted to tell them to leave, but it had been a busy night and she decided it wasn’t worth the argument. So she went back to cleaning up and prayed that a lonely police car would stroll past the smoke and decide to keep the peace, once again to no good luck.
Inside the young men let out the last of their guffaws, half due to the jokes they kept cracking to each other and half to the painkilling headache that flowed through the smoke.
“Man, do you remember Christian?”
After arriving home from work, the man looked out to the open world once last time before entering his home. Something felt off, but he couldn’t tell what it was. After a few seconds he shrugged the feeling off and made sure to lock his door.
“Oh Jesus, you mean that idiot in our math class sophomore year?” The slimmer one giggled with a smile as he remembered through a haze a smaller child crying in front of the class.
“Yeah, man. You remember that time that he called Mrs. Krenshaw mom?” The other responded as he brushed his hand through his long yet greasy hair.
“Dude, you don’t even know the half of it, then.”
“Yeah?”
The man sighed to his empty living room as he put his bags down and retired to the kitchen. He glanced at the photo of him with a woman smiling at Christmas and finally had the courage to gently push the photo down on its frame. The feeling of being watched still wasn’t being shook, but the room remained as empty as before. He thought about getting cameras as he was sure that when he looked outside he saw eyes staring back at him, but after focusing in on the bushes he couldn’t see anything and told himself to stop being as paranoid. The eyes followed him as he slammed the door to the bathroom to continue his routine.
“Oh my god, you have no idea, do you?”
“Stop messing with me, Steve, what are you talking about?”
“Christian got invited out to one of Nick’s parties cuz people found out he had a crush on Stacey.”
“When the hell did this happen?”
“You were in France.”
“Oh yeah.”
“But anyway, so Stacey wants nothing to do with him cuz she and Nick were a thing, but Nick thinks it’ll be hilarious to prank him, so he takes her phone when she goes to the bathroom one day at lunch and he texts Nick that she’s always loved him.”
“No way.”
“Yeah dude.”
His therapist recommended journaling, so naturally he hadn’t written anything, but he did spend a lot of time thinking. The antidepressants were working out so far, but he hadn’t being going out as much as he wanted. Every time he thought about what happened he figured he’d rather not, so instead here he was, drinking diet coke watching some show about cops. He liked the sound of the guns going off, the ridiculous ways that people always tried to talk their ways out. Something seemed to smell inside his house, but he wasn’t concerned, because it never really stops being smelly around here. But then the door opened by itself.
“So the party starts and Stacey shows up, and Christian just goes up and kisses her, right away.”
“Dude…”
“Yeah so he got really mad, it was hilarious.”
“Oh I bet. What happened next?” Steve got sullen all of a sudden.
“Christian got really mad and tried to punch Nick in the face, so the whole football team beat him up. They said his face was purple by the time they pulled everybody away.“
The fight started quick, he had no idea what he was doing but he managed to quickly knock the masked man’s gun aside, and so he pushed the robber to the ground and started pummeling the intruder. Once he saw the man stop moving he removed the mask and saw the purpling bruises all over his face and froze.
“Didn’t he transfer like a month later?”
“Yeah, somebody roomed with him in McLean, said still crying his eyes out over it at night.” The laughing from both of them sank.
By the time he came too from the shock he was already numb from the suckerpunch the robber gave him, and was on the way to the ground.
“Do you think he remembers us?”
“Probably… Who cares? Last I heard of him he had a cushy desk job making bank.”
He thought about a lot of things in those few moments before the robber got up again. The first thing that flashed through his head was a memory of being with his parents.
“Yeah, man. Screw that guy. At least we didn’t sell out for anything.” The slim one said as he looked over to the other for approval.
“At least we didn’t screw ourselves trying to kiss the quarterback’s girl.” He responded in tune, stuttering a bit.
The last thing he felt was a sharp pain in his head followed by a loud crash, and as he stood up again he looked back and saw the robber standing in shock, standing above what used to be his body now mangled on the floor.
There was a dead silence in the car as the two gazed out into the beyond, saying nothing. The pitter-patter of the rain intensified in that moment as neither said a word.
“I hope he’s doing alright…” the slim one muttered quietly.
“Yeah, me too.”
The woman walked past the car to get ready to leave, and the lights from the McDonalds quietly disappeared.
Eric Ryan is a fifth-year student majoring in English. ER821804@wcupa.edu.