Blair Silver

Part 7: Dark

Nothing particularly significant happens within the next couple of weeks. I keep an eye out around the school for Blair Silver, but I don't see any more of him. I don't go out of my way to do so, though (I don't want him to think I'm like, stalking him or something), so that might have something to do with it. About 45% of the time, I do see him when my bus stops at whatever stop it is that he's usually across the street from. He's been showing up less and less frequently though, which is a little sad, because it's rare that guys look as absolutely flawless as he does, and my gay self enjoys looking at him quite a bit.

It's on a specific day when something significant happens again.

It's mid-November now, so the soccer season is winding up, and the sun is setting earlier.

There's a soccer game tonight, so naturally I've bought a ticket and am planning on going. However, at dismissal, when I bring it up to Jillian, she looks surprised. "Oh, I'm not going. My mom signed me up for a babysitting job for this family a little ways down our street. I thought I mentioned it earlier- ugh, I'm such an idiot. I'm really sorry, Theo."

"Oh, it's no problem," I tell her brightly, though internally I'm thinking through my plans to get home. Maybe if I leave early so I can take a bus before it gets too dark-

"I could probably ask my mom if she could pick you up-"

I wave a hand. "It's fine, Jilly. I can leave early if I need to. I'd be more worried about you- what if the kids you're sitting for are little demons? You don't have to put them to bed, do you? Because that's always the worst. If you do, then make sure you ask for double whatever you're getting paid, because they'll probably make a huge production out of it and run around the house screaming for half an hour before you can catch them."

"I'm sure they won't be that bad. And if they are, I'll call you so you can give me ideas, since it sounds like you've had some traumatizing experiences. But really, let me know if you need a ride and I'll get one of my parents to pick you up, 'kay? It's not a long drive to the school from our house. Plus, they adore you, and neither of them would want you wandering around the streets at night."

This is true. Her mom is very protective of me, and her dad kind of treats me like an adopted son. "I will if I need to. But I won't need to."

This seems to be acceptable enough for her, because the topic is dropped and we start walking to the bus stop, discussing the horrors of babysitting. Honestly, children can be such a nightmare when they want to be.

I take a bus to the game, since Jillian and I usually either walk there together from her house or get driven by one of her parents. I use this time responsibly: I go through my wishlist of books on my phone and prioritize it, including essential information such as where each book is available, how much it costs (also if it costs less online), and how much I actually want to read it.

Once I get there, I find a seat in the stands and text Jilly. She's at her babysitting job already and reports that the kids are little angels. I tell her that the ones that seem nice are the worst, because they're the manipulative ones. There are no good children: there are only good liars.

Eventually, she disappears and I assume that she's been sacrificed, severely injured, or otherwise regretting her decision to agree to babysit for small demon-children, and I send her a text that says that if I haven't heard from her by the time the game ends, I'll send help. After that, I'm basically just sitting in the stands waiting for the game to start, so I decide to put a reminder in my phone so that I'll remember to leave on time to catch my bus home before it gets too dark.

The game starts eventually, and I cheer and boo along with the rest of the crowd cheering for our school, along with casually screaming for Rachel and Gabrielle whenever they get the ball. Nothing too interesting happens at the beginning- it's mostly just nobody keeping possession of the ball long enough to score, and a bunch of pretty lame attempts at shooting (I am pleased to report that none of these were by Rachel or Gabrielle. They're both excellent soccer players, says Jillian who actually kind of understands the nuances of the game unlike myself).

Nearing the end of the game, though, things start to get really exciting. Rachel has possession of the ball, and passes it off to some other girl who seems to be okay, who passes it back to Rachel, getting closer to their net. Everyone is on their feet as we get closer and closer and closer and Rachel passes it back and the other girl shoots and-

It's blocked. I sigh and sit back down with everyone else.

We do score a few minutes later, though (thanks to Rachel), so it's not too bad. But then the other team gets close to our goal, and everyone is super on edge again, and it kind of goes back and forth like a tennis match for a while until I start to realize how dark it's getting, and wonder if my alarm should have gone off by now.

I check my pocket, and find that it's empty. It's about now that a feeling of dread settles in my stomach, as well as the panic of not being able to find my phone, and I search the floor desperately to find it- miraculously- right next to my feet. It must have slipped out of my pocket with all of the standing up and sitting back down. I grab it and check the time, and my eyes widen. Holy cow- I should have been out of here a while ago.

I quickly make my way through the stands, trying desperately not to trip over people's feet or the stairs, hurrying as carefully as I can away from the field and towards my bus stop, puffing a bit by the time it comes into view. With a feeling of impending doom added to the dread in the pit of my stomach, I watch it drive right past the deserted stop before I'm even close. I swallow, knowing I'll have to wait for the next one to come now, and it's already pretty dark. Dark enough that the streetlamp are on, anyways.

And dark enough that there aren't people regularly passing by.

Dark enough that there aren't even cars passing by very often, either.

Dark enough that the houses on this street- the few that there are- have closed their blinds to the streets.

Dark enough that I can't clearly make out the people leaning against the building that's a short ways away, though I can tell that they're smoking by the way the light from a streetlamp illuminates the white clouds of smoke.

It's not dark enough, however, that I can't see them push off the building and start walking in my direction when I sit on the bench to wait for the bus, though. Because as soon as that happens, that's the only thing I can look at. The dark mob of faceless people with lit cigarettes who are coming straight for me. I can't look away.

I bite my lip, panicking a little but trying not to show it (despite the fact that they probably can't see my face). If I got up off the bench, and crossed the street, would it be too obvious that I'm basically running away from them? Would it make a difference at all? Would they just follow me anyways? Do they care enough to, or would they think it's some kind of game? Are they actually coming towards me, or do they just happen to want to get on a bus that's going to be here soon (is a bus going to be here soon? Please, let a bus be here soon)?

I'm started out of my alarmed thoughts when I hear a particularly loud motor rumble to a stop in the bus lane right in front of me. I look at it, seeing not a miraculous bus but instead a (miraculous?) motorcycle. I squint, unable to see the rider clearly (or at all) because the headlights are so bright and shining directly in my eyes. Is this mysterious motorcyclist allied with the other guys who are coming towards me? Am I trapped? I can hardly run without tripping immediately, how am I supposed to sprint faster than a motorcycle?

The person takes off their helmet. I flinch back a little, scared, but instead of getting off, the person holds the helmet out to me. "Get on."

I have no idea why but this is one of my favourite chapters for some reason. Maybe I just really like traumatizing my characters? Anyways, what do you think of the chapter?  Who's the mysterious motorcyclist? And most importantly: what's the story behind Theo's complete and utter aversion to babysitting?

If you like this chapter as much as I do, please consider giving it a vote to join the club! Thanks for reading!