A Call for Help

Chapter Sixteen: Andrew

Surprisingly, John only asked one question. "How do you know this guy?" He sounded angry. It made sense though. Andrew had just gave him a black eye. Her throat seemed to constrict when she tried to speak. She swallowed and tried again.
"We used to go to school together. Then he played a prank on me and moved." She somehow kept her voice steady. John seemed convinced. Samantha hoped Andrew didn't tell the whole story. It would make this so much harder. She jinxed it.
"Is that all it was to you," he asked hurt. "All that time we spent together, was nothing? All those moments we sat alone and looked at the sky, was nothing?"
"Sam," John said. "What's he talking about?"
"You didn't tell him about me? What was I, some throwaway toy? 'Let's see how long I can tease him before he tries to make a move.' I see how this is." He began to walk away.
"That's not how it is," Samantha called after him. He spun around and looked at her from a few paces away.
"Then how," he asked sounding agitated and hurt. She couldn't find her voice. Her mouth opened and shut like a fish on land. He nodded slowly. "That's what I thought." He walked away.
"He's just starting drama," Johnathan said. She looked at him a little confused. He looked at her covering the bruised side of his face. "Did you look at his eyes? They showed the truth. He may have sounded sad, but his eyes were not." She hadn't looked at his eyes. How could she?
"Come on," he said. "It's time for us to go home." They were silent on the way to her house. They said goodbye, both sounding sad. The day had been ruined.
She wasn't depressed anymore. She had Johnathan and her father to thank for that. They cared for her, unlike almost everyone else. She wondered what the future held for her and Johnathan.
What about Johnathan's past? She'd told him hers, but he would talk about it. All he'd say was, "The past is the past. Let's leave it that way." Why? Maybe one day he would tell her.

* * *

What was that guys problem? He acted like Samantha belonged to him or something. And the way he tried to win her back with fake sorrow. What an ass.
Yea, maybe John had overreacted by starting the fight, but he was paying for it. His left eye was swollen shut and his jaw beneath it felt pretty bad to. Now he wished he hadn't. Samantha wouldn't be happy.
When he was a couple blocks from his house, someone blocked his way. Oh great, he thought agitated. He really wasn't in the mood. He tried to step around them, but they moved in his path again.
"What do you want," he said with warning in his voice, even though he was thin and not very dangerous. He looked at them directly in the eyes, and couldn't believe what he saw. It was that asshole from the park. Andrew.
"Get out of my way," Johnathan said angrily.
"You get out of my way, and I'll get out if yours. Sammy's mine," Andrew said, hardly changing the tone. He sounded like some business man offering a deal that worked in his favor, knowing the other side was out of options.
"You don't own her. She's not some slave. How about you treat her with respect and maybe she wouldn't be so angry with you." Johnathan's tone raised and became threatening near the end. He couldn't stand this guy.
"Make me, mister, girlfriend stealer." Andrew said like the prick he was. Johnathan felt his fists clench tighter and couldn't help but remember the last little fight they'd had. He didn't care.
"I didn't steal her she came to me. Leave her alone." Johnathan said letting the anger roll off his tongue.
"What are you going to do about it," he asked mockingly. Johnathan couldn't hold back any longer. He let his right hand fly towards Andrew's annoyingly 'perfect' face. He felt it connect and watched Andrew stumble.
Andrew walked back over to him briskly and swung a hard left hook. Johnathan fell and hit the ground with his palms down on the concrete. Rage bubbled up inside him like lava.
Then everything went dark.