Opposites Attract - ON HOLD

Chapter 10

The next day, Harley was released from work early. He rode his motorcycle down the familiar route home when he saw Kent at their usual meeting place in the deserted parking lot. Harley pulled into the lot and parked his motorcycle next to the curb.

"Hey Harley."

"Hey Kent. Why are you here?"

"I'm waiting for the rest of the guys. We're suppose to meet here today. Remember?"

"I nearly forget," said Harley as he rubbed his jawline.

York walked around the corner onto the pavement.

"Hey Harley. Kent."

They both nodded at York and waited quietly for the rest of the crew. Zee, Smitty, and Rox came from different directions moments later.

"I haven't seen you much Harley. What are you up to?" asked Rox.

"I'm seeing someone," said Harley with a cigarette in his mouth.

"Who?" asked Smitty.

"Vivian."

"Who's she?" asked Zee as his eyebrows came together in thought.

"She graduated with me. She usually keeps to herself. Dark brown hair. Green eyes. "

"She ain't a greaser chick," commented Kent.

Harley almost felt the shock run through the entire crew.

"What's so great about her?" asked Rox.

"What's not so great about her is the real question," said Harley.

"How did you manage to get a chick that ain't a greaser?" asked Zee.

Harley shrugged. He leaned against the concrete wall bordering the parking lot and looked down at the sidewalk.

"Jeez, a prep. How low have you gotten Harley?" sneered York.

"What the hell are you talking about York?"

Harley felt his body grow rigid as he waited for York's answer.

"She might be sweet when she spreads her legs but she ain't no Greaser. She isn't one of us."

Harley threw down his cigarette. He walked over to where York was sitting and grabbed him by the neck of his shirt. He roughly pulled him up and slammed him against a street light pole.

"Shut up! You hear me?! Just shut the hell up!" yelled Harley.

Everyone was on their feet and staring. Harley shoved York one last time then let go of him. He turned around and gave everyone a fiery look that clearly said I–dare–you–to–say–something. Harley stuffed his fists in his jacket and walked to his motorcycle. He swung his leg over and sat down on the black Harley. He revved the engine and squealed out of the parking lot disappearing into the dark night.

*****

On Friday morning, Harley woke up with a smell of bacon and toast. For a moment, Harley thought his mom was cooking him breakfast. Bob's laughter boomed through the house shattering those thoughts in a million pieces. Harley punched his mattress as he stood up to make sure his door was locked. He put on his black boots and examined his hair in the mirror. After a few swipes of his comb through his shiny black hair, he grinned devilishly at his reflection. His smile faded when laughs came from the kitchen.

Harley looked around for his motorcycle keys and remembered that he left them in the hall. He cursed under his breath. His plan to sneak out the window dissolved as the laughter continue to ring through his ears. Harley quietly opened the door and carefully walked down the hallway to the table where his keys were.

"Boy!"

Harley froze in his tracks and turned around. He took a deep breath and walked in the kitchen. He knew if he didn't come to Bob, he would get a beating the next time he saw him. Bob was enjoying a large breakfast while watching Harley's mother cook. Bob's face turned to Harley and the smile faded into hatred.

"Well, sit Boy."

Harley pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Your mother here tells me that you were out late Tuesday. Why?"

"I was with someone."

"Who?" demanded Bob.

"Does it even matter? I'm an adult and she never cares what time I come home."

"Answer me!"

"Vivian."

Bob laughed heartily and took another forkful of eggs.

"Vivian?" mocked Bob with a smile playing over his lips.

"Yes, Vivian."

"A piece of ass?"

Harley jumped up from his chair and yelled angrily, "Don't you dare call her that."

"I can call the little bitch whatever I want."

Harley was at Bob's side. Without thinking, he pulled back his fist and hit Bob square on the nose. Bob fell on the floor with his chair making the house vibrate from the force. He put a hand under his nose and pulled it back. Blood covered his thick fingers and it was starting to pool down to his shirt.

"You little bastard," said Bob as he stood up.

Bob swung his fist as Harley ducked. The next swing hit Harley on his cheekbone. Harley shook his head to rid his eyes of the black spots. He ran in the hall and grabbed his keys before Bob could take another lick at him. Harley ran out of the front door, ignoring Bob's yells. He peeled out of the driveway and roared down the street away from the bellowing Bob from the front porch still bleeding from his nose.