Crystal Clear

Chapter Nine

Tommy pretty much abandons me, saying he was catching a ride with his friend. Plus I've got no idea where I am and a cell phone that's battery was about to die. There are only two people I can possibly call that has the ability to pick me up. My father, or Moe. If I call Dave... I'd have to give him an explanation for what happened. I'd probably get grounded and given the third degree. If I call Moe, he'd deserve an apology and a huge thank you.

I guess I'll try the latter.

"Hello?" he picks up on the first ring.

"Hey, I'm sorry," I say immediately.

"Oh no. No problem," he tells me.

"Come pick me up?" I ask wearily.

"Of course, be right there. Just have to drop Shannon off first," and he hangs up. That stung. He didn't seem mad though, which was good.

I sit on the curb of the road and wait.

In fact, I wait so long that my phone actually dies and I feel as though I'm about to pass out, just curl up in a ball right here and go to sleep. Until I feel someone tap my shoulder. Moe!

When I turn around and look up, it wasn't... Moe. I almost scream.

"You're beautiful," I can see a man, only from the luminescence of the street light.

"Th—thanks," I stutter quietly. He paces back and forth. I am fearful. A nervous wreck. He continues pacing, finally he's standing right in front of me. He's bald, has a ski hat on (it's summer...), shaving cuts on his face and zits, he's fairly ugly...well, very ugly. My heart quickened.

"How old are you?" he asks.

"Sixteen," I say, it was barely audible.
"Sixteen, that's a sweet surprise," he says, he is kneeling in front of me now, his cigarette breath inches from my face.

"Are we a naughty girl?" he asks, touches the hickey that came from Tommy on my right breast. I gulp.

"You can come home to my place," he whispers, a heavy hot breath.

"I'd rather not," I choke out. He feels around his pants pockets, revealing a pistol and my heart is racing.

"What did you say?" he asks, feeling his gun, tracing his fingers over it.

"I—I can't, my boyfriend is picking me up from here,"

"You don't need him when you have me," he licks his lips. He puts his hand on my upper thigh and I flinch. I want to cry. I remain blank, looking straight ahead, not making any eye contact. And then I see Moe's truck. His trucks headlights were so bright. Relief sinks in, then fear. What if this lunatic tries to hurt Moe?!
The man orders me to stand up so I do. Moe parks his car inches from where I'm standing. I keep on mouthing the word "go" and a tear manages to slide down my cheek. Moe gets out of his car, looking at the man the entire time.

"Come on, we need to get you home," Moe says calmly. The pistol is digging into my back, right above my ass. I shake my head.

"Listen, you're gonna wanna get in that truck, go home right now and leave her with me, we're friends, now aren't we?" the man is screaming in my ear, digging the pistol into me more than the bullet probably would.

"Sir, I'm afraid I can't do that," Moe says, still calm.

"Can't you?" he begins to touch me, sliding his hand into my shorts. The next thing I know happens too quick, Moe tackles him and begins punching him. I fall to the ground because he drags me down, dropping the pistol and I reach for the gun, which I grab and point at the man. I force Moe off of him.
"Let's go," Moe tells me.
"Shouldn't we tell the police?" I am still pointing the gun at him, as we walk backwards to Moe's truck. There's blood everywhere.

"No, let's just go," Moe opens the door to the truck, then gets in with me. I am still holding the pistol. Moe drives quickly away from him. I put the gun on the floor.

We drive in silence.

"I'm tired," I'm the first one to speak. Apparently Moe is playing the quiet game with me or something.

"Really? Are ya? Poor thing," Moe spits out sarcastically.

"I don't get what your problem is,"

"You!" he screams.

"Me," I say flatly.

"Yes, you!"
"How am I your problem?" I am calm.

"Why am I in Durham at six in the morning, picking you up from a maniac?! Oh right, because of some bullshit that Shannon told you!" he screams at me. Now I feel like crying. I am mortified.

"Sorry," I mutter and look out the window.

"What Shannon said wasn't tr—,"
"I don't care. It doesn't matter. Those feelings aren't even... they can't happen," all he does is nod. And keeps his eyes on the road.

"And if it did?" he asks after a moment.

"It just wouldn't. It's impossible," I respond monotonously.

"I'm saying if,"
"If it happened we'd both be dead," I'm not ready to talk about these things. It's only been three days.

"Why would we be dead?" he asks puzzled.

"Dave," I tell him. He nods.

"True," he comments.

"Exactly that's why it isn't going to happen. That's why I will refuse to let it happen. Anyway, we don't like each other like that—how could we? It's only been three—now four—days," I say, even though everything I was saying contradicts everything I feel about him.

"But—what if I do like you...like that?" he asks quietly.
"No need to worry about that because you don't. You've said it yourself. And I'll be gone by the end of August," he nods, understandingly.

And that's why I can't date him. I'm done taking chances and putting my heart on the line for guys like Tony or Moe. Guys like them—who are your dream guys. They look perfect, act it, say exactly what you wanna hear. They say they have good intentions. They're the types of guys who just use you then move on to the next.

"If anything Moe, we shouldn't really hang out like this," he raises his eyebrows.

"Why? Don't you see how much you owe me Gabby? I saved your ass from rape. Or worse,"
"And you already regret it, don't you," I retort. Moe pulls the truck over on the side of the road and looks me in the eye.

"You think I regret it?! Are you serious? I woke up at five in the damn morning to drive all the way back to Durham just to regret it?! The only thing I regret is you talking to Shannon and acting like a child over it! Are you dumb? When he began to touch you—I just—I couldn't take it. Thank god you picked up the gun because if I did he'd be dead right now. That killed me what he did, entitled piece of shit," he shouts. Is he serious? So, he's okay that I hook up with Tommy, a hot good-looking guy, a friend of his, but then gets jealous over a fifty year old pervert homeless man who is trying to get a feel. He's jealous, obviously there must be something wrong with the way his brain functions.

"Thank you, I get it. You were watching out for me. Can we please, please not mention this to Dave?" He would kill me if he knew what I had been doing all night. I really want Moe to be on my side with this one.

"I won't mention it, don't worry. Mistakes happen," we pull into my driveway, finally.

"Thanks again. For everything," I look at him, the way his jawline is so angled and I could kiss it, but I turn away instead. I open the door to leave. It's chilly out.

"Here," he shrugs off his jacket and gives it to me, passing it through the passenger side. I thank him again.

"No problem," he says softly. I walk up the porch to the front door and reach under the floor mat for the extra key, then toss it back under after I open the front door. I wave goodbye to Moe, then carefully close the door behind me. Now all I have to do is get upstairs without waking up my father. If Matty or Dee wake up I won't care, it's not a big deal. I hear footsteps from upstairs. Instead of taking the risk, I jump to the couch and pretend I'm asleep.

That pretend-sleep soon turns into real sleep and I never get to know whose footsteps they were.

***