The Day Girls Started Chasing Me

Chapter 5

I start from my droopy rest when a harsh flash pulls me from my sleep. Looking up, my eyes cloudy, I see a tall shadow standing in front of me. Another flash goes off, and I blink my eyes to clear my vision. He's a pretty tall guy with a skinny frame. He's got these plush pink lips and nice brown eyes, and his hair is jet black and hangs long and lazily on his shoulders. He wears a drape for a shirt that drifts off one shoulder, which is weird because it's the middle of winter, and skinny jeans to compliment his brown combat boots.

But that's not what's interesting about him. What got my attention was the cellphone he holds in his hand, a smile raised on his thick lips as he snaps another photo before putting his phone away. I imagine the images he took of me. First sleeping, then droopy, and now a mix of shock and horror.

"You must be Adam." he laughs. I don't reply. Partly because I'm embarrassed that he took those photos of me. Also because I'm angry that he did it in the first place. But mostly because I was too tired to talk.

"Cheryl told me that she needed my help with something." he continues as he makes his way toward me. He begins cutting the tape with a knife he pulls from his front pocket. "When she told me that I'd need to cut some guy from a tree for her, I thought it was figurative speech. English majors are usually like that. But I'm honestly laughing so hard right now because I'm actually cutting a guy from a tree. Isn't that amazing?"

It's a rhetorical question, but somehow I manage to respond. "Who the hell are you?" I ask, my voice dry and grungy from my nap.

"Oh, me?" he says, though in my head I'm wondering who else I could possibly be talking to. "My name's Ezra. I'm a friend of Cheryl's. On holidays and my birthday the best gift you can give me is money or coffee. My favorite color's orange, but it's got to be a sunset orange, healthy smoothies are life and I'm gay. I always have to tell people I'm gay when we first meet so there's no awkward tension later in our relationship, cause you know, that's just awkward. Oh, and I also talk a lot."

"You sure do." I mummer under my breath.

"What did you say?" he asks, earnestly leaning in (with the knife pointed in my direction might I add) to hear me.

"Nothing." I quickly answer. He goes back to spearing at the tape, the sharp edge leaving imprints on the bark of the tree. The air whistles in my ear, the sun begins to rise ahead, and I'm relieved that I'm finally free when the first car rolls by.

With my now unchained hands, I spit saliva on it before quickly proceeding to scrubbing the condescending words off my forehead.

"Cheryl also said that once I got you down that you'd buy me coffee, which is totally sweet of you." he smiles. "Here, we'll go in my car." He suddenly hauls me over to an oversized SUV. It's a muddy green caked in rust and dirt. The wheels look like they're about to fall off of their hinges.

He opens the door and pushes me inside. Despite his small build, he was actually pretty strong. Or maybe I was just weaker than I thought.

Before I can protest about being in a stranger's car, Ezra begins speeding off down the street. Not in the mood to argue, I buckle my seat belt and sit back. He seems incredibly annoying, but I don't think he's the type to hurt other people. I pull down the mirror connected to the roof and make sure that all the black ink is gone.

"So, what did you do to get yourself in that situation anyway?" he asks looking out at the road ahead.

"It's a long story." I say in short, not really feeling up to answering that question right now.

Ezra seems to understand as he flips through the radio stations. Soon, the car's booming with music. He whips his hair and sings along to the heavy sounds of rock and roll and I stay the rest of the car ride silent, a slight smile beginning to take form on the edge of my lips.