Chapter 3

21 0 0
                                    


Kurtz apartment was on a crappy side of the already crappy town and Mary wondered if she should have told Dawson where she would be. In case she went missing. With the way a group of men leered at them as they walked by, the girl shuffled closer to the boy. The apartment was no better as trash and bottles covered the small space. There was a sleeping body on the couch, a naked man with a pillow over his face. Mary made sure to avert her eyes, "Y-your d-d-dad?" She questioned as he led them over a pile of blankets on the floor. The boy glanced at the couch and frowned, "Yeah." He said, nonchalant with a shrug. The pair made their way to his room and she noticed it was much cleaner. The bed was tucked into the corner, made with mix and match blankets and pillows, and a dresser lined the wall with a desk beside it. He dropped his bag on the bed and sat, motioning for her to take a seat at the desk. Pulling out her assignment and notebook; she began, "H-how long have y-you lived in Riverdale?" The girl asked, folding her hands in her lap. The tape recorder was in her jacket pocket, already on and recording. There was some guilt that she was recording their conversation without his knowledge, but this was the only way she could think to get his uncensored answers. "We've been here my whole life. Never even left for a vacation." His tone suggested he was bored as he shuffled through his bag. Mary nodded, writing down his reply. As he pulled out his notebook, she leaned forward to see what he was doing. "I-is that a form for t-tutoring?" She asked with a small smile like she discovered something new.
Kurtz glanced up at her and gave a hesitant nod; "I'm... not the worst at math and science. AP courses already." His pale cheeks taking a hint of a blush at her widening smile. She moved to sit next to him; "That's amazing. Y-you must be a genius." Her compliment made his face even redder as the boy tried to shrug it off and collect himself. "A-actually, I need t-to talk to m-my teacher about getting a t-tutor for Algebra. I-I'm terrible at math." Mary rubbed the back of her neck with a pitiful smile. Kurtz tapped his pencil on his notebook; "I can help. Just request me through the teacher so I can get the extra credits." His smile was genuine, and Mary returned it with a nod. "T-thanks."
As they returned their attention to the session; Mary thought she might have figured the boy out a little more. He was smart, scary so, and he didn't have a lot in life. School was his escape from everything, much like herself. His father was an absent drunk and his mother died in childbirth. Math and science were his specialties and he loved to study but tried to act like academics weren't a big deal. Modesty or embarrassment; Mary figured he didn't want to be labeled as a nerd. The pet peeves were something she thought were amusing. He, obviously, hated the Serpents; he couldn't stand frozen yogurt, and the taste of alcohol made him cringe. Mary couldn't suppress her grin, "What's so w-wrong with frozen y-yogurt?" Her question raised his eyebrows in disbelief, "Aside from the fact that it's extremely high in sugar; I'm also lactose intolerant." She rolled her eyes with a giggle, "How badass." The girl playfully mocked. Kurtz scoffed and nudged her with his shoulder, "At least I don't write poems about unicorns and rainbows." He teased back. "I told you, I-I don't write about that s-stuff." The girl exclaimed with exasperation as she fell back onto the bed. Staring at the ceiling, counting the old glow in the dark stars; things quieted down. "Biggest fear?" Her voice was like a whisper as all hints of liveliness calmed down.
He thought for a moment, longer than any other question. She could hear him swallowing, "I guess I'm afraid that I'll never get out of this town. That I'll be... Stuck. A loser with no purpose." His voice was equally quiet and full of emotion. So different from his usual self. Mary wondered if he was warming up to her to be so vulnerable. Even if it was just for a moment; Kurtz let his guard down. It could have been because it was just the two of them and he hadn't known he was being recorded. "Kurtz; I think you'll g-go places with your smarts. Don't l-l-let Riverdale or Ghoulies hold you b-b-back." She encouraged, sitting up and turning to the boy. Her smile had faded, and blue eyes watched him; "What do y-you want to do when you get out of s-school?" Even though it was the last question, she asked it in a way that seemed honest. Like she was continuing their conversation instead of switching the topic. He smiled, "Maybe I'll be an accountant? Go off to a faraway college on a scholarship and settle into a normal life." Wistful, almost longing. Craving normalcy in a life of violence and gangs. Mary knew the feeling.
The pair sat in silence for a moment before she checked her phone, "Crap, m-my dad's g-going to kill m-me." Her words stuttered once more, and Kurtz frowned at her. "I-I have to be home b-before dark." She explained; rushing to pack her things as it was already five in the evening. The sun would set around six, so she had an hour to get back home. Kurtz stood with her, "I'll walk you." He offered as she headed for the door. With a grateful nod, the pair made their way out of the complex and down the streets. As the sun began descending; Mary hurried, "I-I-I can't b-be l-l-late." Her worried mutters filled the silence as she worried her bottom lip. Kurtz grabbed her arm to slow her, "Calm down, I'm sure your dad won't mind if it's for school." He rolled his eyes, "I'm sure the princess won't get in trouble if she's a little late." Even though he was joking, the girl pursed her lips and held her satchel tighter. With a breath in her nose and out of her mouth to calm her heart, she looked around.
Her house wasn't that far, and she could make it if she ran, "H-head back home, I-I can make it from h-here since it's c-close." She stated, turning to face the boy completely. He shook his head, "I can't let you go home alone and in the dark. It's not safe." His voice was almost concerned and any other time, Mary probably would have smiled at the boy while teasing him. "I-I-I can't show up late w-with a b-boy, Kurtz. T-trust me; h-h-he wouldn't like it." He frowned at her reply, but gave a defeated sigh, "Fine, but message me to let me know you got home safe." The compromise was agreed to quickly as she waved before taking off. Running down the street and turning the corner; Mary opened her door just as the streetlights came on outside. With a relieved sigh, she made her way to her room and set down her bag on the bed. Just as she was gathering clothes for a shower; Dawson stood in her doorway. His arms crossed, but a smile on his face, "So, tell me about your day, Margret." The girl paused. With shaking hands, she sat in her desk chair and shrugged; "I'm h-halfway through w-w-with my p-project." Her eyes glued to her clothes, hair falling to cover her face. She could hear the man making his way to her, see him kneeling in her line of vision, "Are you making friends? Did you find a tutor?" His smile and soothing voice were that of a man talking to his daughter and while most families were like this, Mary knew better. Her stomach turned at how nice he was being, how confused it made her. Searching for malice in his hazel eyes and finding nothing of the sort; she relaxed a hair, "I-I might have t-two f-friends. One of t-them said t-they could t-tutor me at s-school." Her avoidance of pronouns was overseen as the man tucked her hair behind her ear and gave her a smile; "That's good, sweetheart." His hand lingered down her shoulder, thumb rubbing near her collarbone. At her hesitant smile, the man tightened his hold. The whimper escaped her as he squeezed her tighter and tighter. Feeling her bone bending under his hold and seeing his frown, "Y-y-you're hurting m-me, d-d-daddy."
Her pleading falling on deaf ear as he pulled her to stand with him, towering over the girl with an intimidating stare, "Do not be late again, Margret." His words were patronizingly soft yet held a sharp edge. A warning. As a tear made its way down her face, she nodded, "Y-y-yes, da-daddy." When he released her, she fell into the chair and folded her legs to her chest. His hand landed in her hair and she couldn't stop the flinch as he pets her head, "Good girl."

Building BridgesWhere stories live. Discover now