By InsidiousCynic

Friday, September 18 – Zane Patterson

“Come on,” says Ira, shaking me. “You’re gonna be late for school!”

“Go away,” I groan.

“You can’t be late! Mom’s gonna kill you if—”

I spring out of bed and look my little brother square in the eye. I grab him by the collar. “And who’s going to tell her?”

It had been years since I last beat him up, but he knows by the look in my eye that I’m not messing around.

“Fine,” he says. “It’s your life.”

He leaves the bedroom and slams the door behind him.

“What good is school doing you anyway?!” I shout after him. Then I rewrap myself in my covers and mutter curses against everyone and everything.

The scene plays over and over in my mind. It was humiliating.

Following her out of Tae Kwon Do class? What was I thinking? What was I even doing there—the class was across town from my house. I remember coming out of the grocery store and thinking, “Huh, that sure was a waste of time to have to bike all the way into town just to buy some cereal and a bag of onions. What else is there to do around here?”

And then I remember remembering that D.K had her Tae Kwon Do lesson that day, and that the class was taking place just down the street. And then one thing led to another, and the next thing you know I’m following D.K. down the second-shadiest part of town. Plus, I was dressed in ripped jeans and a black hoodie. Not to mention that she was still high on the adrenaline from an hour’s worth of martial arts. 

In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. But when I’m in the moment, it’s like my mind shuts off. I’m just acting on autopilot. And every time it ends the same way—with me embarrassed and barely making it out alive.

“Zane!” she shouted. “What on earth are you doing!”

All I could do in reply was wheeze, completely winded from the two hits to my torso. 

“Oh my goodness,” she said, kneeling next to me. “I didn’t break any bones, did I? Should I call 911?”

I frantically shook my head no, though I felt like all my ribs had been crushed and were ripping into my lungs.

“You’re lucky, I didn’t go for your head—I could’ve killed you!”

More wheezing.

“What were you doing following me like that anyway! I’m calling the paramedics.”

By then, there were tears in my eyes. “I’m fine,” I sputtered.

“Zane, why were you following me?”

“I was…” I said, finally catching my breath. “I was just…” But the lies just wouldn’t come fast enough, so the truth slipped out. “I like you… a lot…”

D.K was taken aback. “Oh. I, uh…”

While she was trying to think of something to say, I gripped the wall and struggled to my feet.

“Hey, don’t force yourself,” she said, avoiding the subject at hand.

“It’s fine, really,” I said, slowly backing out of the alley. “It’s been worse. I’ll, uh, see you… sometime…”

Or maybe never… Hopefully never…

She didn’t try to stop me. 

I limped out of the alley and down the street to where I locked up my bike, holding my aching stomach and cursing myself every step of the way.

Well, she’s never talking to me ever again.

And now I can never leave the house again. I can’t go to school, can’t go to church, can’t even risk going to the store because D.K. might be there. Of course, I’ll have to go somewhere eventually. After missing a few days of school, my mom will catch on, and I’ll have to go to school. I didn’t want to worry or stress her. But for now, I’m just going to lie on my bed and hope that D.K. forgets that I exist. That everyone forgets I exist. It’s not like anyone’s going to remember me after high school anyway, right? Yep, Imma stay right here in this beat-up ol’ trailer house for the foreseeable future.

You get that, right?