In Your Veins

Chapter 7

I get into his pickup truck. It's...not the cleanest...

It's fine. I just won't think about it too hard. It's fine.

It's hard not to think about the state of the truck when there are wrappers and crumbs under my feet. I never eat in my car, personally. I can't stand the idea of a dirty car.

As we pull out of the lot, I see Khiere's mother storm out of the church and make direct eye contact with me. It sends a chill down my spine.

What am I doing here, really?

The next five minutes of the drive passes by in tense silence. I wish I was in my own car. It looks like the rest of the ride will pass by in silence too, before—

"Swimmer, huh?"

"What?"

"You're a swimmer. An athlete."

I used to be, back in high school. I don't compete anymore, but...

How the hell does he know that?

"Swimming ain't really a sport, if you think about it," he continues on, "But it's better than nothing, I guess—"

"How do you know that?" I ask. My hands lay cold on my lap. Everything about this is so strange.

"What, that you swim?" he asks, with a laugh. "My boy is the one who dug all that up, I just happened to stumble on it. You'd think that looking at a kid like you would motivate him to be less of a sissy."

He eyes me. "Not that you're the epitome of a man either, but at least you've got it in you."

I don't know what to say. All I know is that I'd rather be anywhere but here with this man.

"He was a weird one, that boy. Always was. His mother babied him too much, fed into his bullshit. Now..."

He pauses, before continuing. "You seem like a decent boy. You look like you've been raised right, like you've got a good head on your shoulders. That's why I have to show you what I'm about to show you."

Before I can process that sentence, he hits me with another.

"If he'd have come onto you, you would have told him to shove right off, right?"

There's a sort of pleading tone to his voice. I don't like it one bit.

That's essentially what I did, but for some reason, I don't want to answer him.

After a bit of silence, he answers his own question. "Right. Right, he'd never get away with something like that."

Now I wish I had said yes to Khiere, just to spite this man.

...

...if I'd have said yes...

Maybe...

...he wouldn't be dead.

...perhaps this whole situation is my fault.

A wave of guilt washes over me. He was weird, but...he only ever really cared for me, right? Maybe being with him wouldn't have been so bad...

I didn't deserve to get invited to his funeral...not if I was the one who killed him...

The truck stops abruptly, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"In," he says, getting out of the truck and heading towards the house.

We both walk to the front door. He fishes a key out of a dirt filled flowerpot, an action that fills me with a sense of dread. Why do I get the feeling that we're not supposed to be here?