Once Upon a Push

Chapter 2

“So he said he'll see you again?” Christy’s muffled voice came from the other line of the phone. I nodded my head, and then realized she couldn’t see me, so I stuttered a ‘yes.’

“You’re in deep," she said, speaking clearly now.

“Thanks to you and Riley," I replied, sourly.

“To me?” Christy replied, seeming shocked.

“Yes! You’re the one who pushed me into that boy!” I retorted, scrubbing the last dish in the sink. It was all her fault! I wiped my hands on the dry dishrag sitting on the counter.

“Oh… yeah. Sorry about that," she replied, probably adding another layer of bright pink nail polish to her nails. She doesn’t sound like she’s sorry. It doesn’t matter now; her careless behavior just signifies that she is, in fact, Christy.

“Whatever. I doubt he’ll keep his word; he was probably just trying to scare me. And it worked,” I admitted, hopeful. I heard a grunt from the other line, then Christy scolding her dog, and then shrieking. I yanked the phone away from my ear. Way to go, making me deaf before I’m even 18.

“I’ll call you back! Murray just crapped on my carpet!” she said, clicking the off button before I could even think of a response.

I just shrugged, tossing my phone onto my bed. And of course, it bounced off of the bed, onto the wall, did a triple backflip onto the carpet, and Harlem Shook it's way to the dark corner under my bed. Just great. My mind slowly drifted back to Cyrus. Nothing will go wrong, I kept reassuring myself but somewhere in my gut- I thought otherwise.

__

I breathed heavily, as I sat in my car, preparing to go to school… the same school in which I talked to Cyrus Angelo. I lay my head on the steering wheel, biting my lip in nervousness. Should I just drive back home? I slowly brought my head away from the steering wheel, preparing to leave. My body jerked forward, slamming my face into the wheel, causing the horn to blare, all because someone smacked the window.

I looked back at an innocent Riley, standing there as he began cowering at my enraged face. Why would he do that? He slowly backed away as I swung open my car door, with my bag slung over my shoulder. I slowly stood up, glaring at Riley who was holding his hands up.

“I’m sorry, I did-," he started, backing away as I took steps towards him. I slammed my door shut; making sure it was locked, but still maintaining eye contact. He glanced at the bag over my shoulder, then back to my face, most likely measuring the amount of speed I can manage with the bag lugging on my shoulder.

“You have 2 seconds," I said through gritted teeth.

That’s how I started my day- chasing Riley Peters through the hallways of Morrison High. He was faster than me, yes, but I knew this school better than him- seeing as I walk around the halls during study hall instead of actually studying- while he sits and plays paper football or drawing pictures of Pokémon characters. He’s such a nerd sometimes and I love him- but just not right now. I’m actually quite angry with him!

I heard Riley’s shouts of ‘Coming through’ or ‘You move as slow as my grandmother, and she’s dead!’ I laughed occasionally as the curly haired boy eased his way through the people of our crowded hallways. I heard a door slam as I glanced around to see Riley on the other side, sticking out his tongue childishly.

He was in his homeroom, and now that I think about it- that is where I was supposed to be. He had his tongue out as he shook his head teasingly causing me to glare. He wriggled his eyebrows, doing the wave making me chuckle lightly. I stopped when I remembered my anger for him. My fists clenched as I remembered the red spot on my forehead that my hair somewhat covered now, but its throbbing! It’ll definitely bruise!

I can just break the glass and wrap my hands around his little neck, squeezing ever so tightly until I hear the faint pop, then hide his body in the basement of my house- making sure that no one can see him or smell him. I’ll stuff him in a big black bag and when my mother asks, I’ll just say that it’s my laundry. Or its old clothes that I have to keep and that she can’t look through or else they’ll possess her! Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. ‘Take off your blindfolds! Riley Peters has been dead in this basement for 2 weeks! We febrezed it!’ I felt myself start to laugh- funny conscious.

“You’re violent," a voice spoke as I jumped nearly 10 feet into the air.

“W-what’s violent?” I asked, turning around slowly, already recognizing the low and dangerous voice, yet still somehow attractive.

“What you just said, about choking that kid,” Cyrus said, pointing to the door behind me. Riley’s face was pale as I turned and looked at the window; he looked like he was using the bathroom in his pants. Riley always had a weak bladder.

"You heard that?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I was pretty sure I said that in my head. Can he read minds? Sometimes when I’m all alone, I sit on the kitchen floor pretending I’m a crumb.

“You said it aloud. Much like the thoughts you’re ‘thinking’ right now, kitchen crumb," he said, putting air quotes around the word thinking while smirking. Oh no, did he hear me thinking about that time when my great grandmot-. I stopped thinking, causing him to smirk.

"No, continue on. I’d love to hear the stories of your Great Grandmother," he said, smirking with a raised eyebrow. The look suited him. I saw no change in his expression, so I realized that I must’ve been keeping my thoughts in my mind. Then I realized it. He was going to kill me now. Like the rumors of him killing kids who got into his way, they were true. But no, I wasn’t going to let him kill me today. He’ll never catch me alive!

Already winded from the most physical activity I’d done this whole entire year, I began running down the hallway. If Coach Matthews saw me, he’d give me an ‘A+’ for sure. Speaking of the gym, that’s where it seems my legs were heading- the gym. Maybe that’s because that is the only place where it’s been recorded of your physical activities. I was sure he wasn’t following me until I heard him say my name a few times.

“Maverly? Why are you running?” he asked, not even winded from behind me. He remembered my name? SPEED IT UP A LITTLE! I screamed inwardly to my legs. They came to an abrupt stop outside of the equipment room.

I jumped a little bit at the sound of his footsteps coming towards me. I ran further into the empty gym, aside from the stray basketballs lying in the back corner of the room. I glanced down at my dark orange shirt. CLOSE ENOUGH! I ran over and curled into a ball in the back of the room, my eyes darted towards the doorway in case he saw me. No one can get past this disguise. It’s pure genius; the army would recruit me immediately… that’s if they could find me!

I saw him step into the gym, his black and gray flannel shirt hanging over a gray undershirt which overlapped his nice fit dark jeans. He was wearing black and gray Supras. And boy, did he look good.

His green eyes searched the gym as his expression was as blank as a board. When his body turned towards where I was curled into a ball, slightly- okay maybe a lot larger than a basketball- he smirked. He didn’t see me, did he? No way, right? He probably liked basketball. He began waltzing over towards me and I panicked.

I picked up a basketball, in my now standing position and began hurling them towards him. He dodged the first two but the 3rd and 4th hit him straight in the chest. The 5th one skimmed his arm as he moved to the side. A bewildered look appeared on his face as I hurled the orange basketballs towards him aimlessly.

"What are you doing?” he said, dodging the basketballs that were supposed to be hitting him.

“You’re not going to kill me today!” I yelled, as I hurled another ball towards him. I reached down, my hand coming up empty as I searched the floor around me for any more basketballs. My heart dropped into my stomach as I realized that I was going to die. I glanced up at him and he smirked at me with a funny expression on his face, amusement almost.

“You think I’m going to kill you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. I stayed speechless as he reached down and grabbed one of many basketballs that lay lifelessly at his feet. He tossed it up and down in his hands as he smirked mischievously.

“W-what are you doing?” I asked nervously. I felt my throat begin to dry up.

"Having a little fun with my prey," he said, cracking his knuckles as he bounced the ball a few times.

“W-what?” I stuttered, losing my voice for a second before I swallowed whatever saliva my mouth was capable of making.

“I just don’t kill my prey, I destroy them first. Unless they destroy themselves, one out of five times they do. But most of them don’t like to suffer, so they ask me to end it quick… but the suffering is my favorite part," he said, grinning wickedly with his voice lower than usual. A ball came flying past my face as I gulped audibly.

“Y-you can’t kill me… in school," I said, the last thing I needed to do was doubt his abilities.

“I’ve done it before," he said with a shrug, causing me to do a double take. His words caught me off guard. Sure, he probably did kill someone. But did he really do it on school grounds?

“You what? You killed someone on school grounds?” I questioned. Shouldn’t I be surprised that he killed someone period? Probably because he’s about the thug life. He shrugged again carelessly.

“Any last words?” he asked, cracking his knuckles for what seemed like the 30th time.

“Potato,” I said, causing him to become confused for a second. I felt around in my pocket for my spray. My pepper spray. My mother gave it to me in case of an emergency. I rarely use it. He watched as I yanked it out of my pocket.