liquor store robbery, and death in a hail of bullets. She figured it was just part of being a teenage guy—trying to be a man but still a boy at heart. It
was
pretty adorable.
“Hey, Julia,” Tyler’s familiar voice was a welcome sound. “How are you? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m pretty tired, though. I look like road kill, and I feel like it too.”
“Well, you’ve been through a terrible trauma. And I actually think the stitches are pretty hot.”
Julia couldn’t help but smile. “Oh good. Now I
do
see something good about that stupid zombie game you’ve been playing. Your standards are abysmal, you know that? Hey, I’m actually at Shakes right now. Wanna meet up?”
“I would, but I’m at Rob’s playing
Dead Space
before I crash. You know, college ball is a lot more demanding than high school ball, and these practices are killer. I’m sure you really need more rest too, after all you’ve been through. Why don’t we see each other this weekend?”
“Um, okay.” Julia said hesitantly. She could really use a dose of Tyler’s lightheartedness, and she was hoping that seeing him would put Austin out of her head. Tyler sensed her disappointment.
“Hey babe, if you want me to come over, I can tell Rob to stick it where the sun don’t shine.” A chorus of laughter in the background told Julia that Tyler was already preoccupied.
“No, that’s okay, Tyler. You’re right—I need to rest. Call me when you get a chance.”
“Take care, babe.”
“Okay, thanks,” she said and hit the end button.
Julia started home in the glistening darkness of a rainy, cloudy, moonless night. She was glad for the sugar buzz from the shake, because she could feel the scratches, sprains, and shocks of the past day and a half catching up with her. The monotony of the windshield wipers didn’t help. A couple of times she felt her eyes trying to close.
She shook her head, sucked down enough of her milkshake to give her brain freeze, and cranked the stereo. Someone was droning a teen rant about getting kicked out of a bar, and Julia sang along to stay awake. But she felt stupid singing about maxing out credit cards and ménage à trois and other risky, hedonistic BS she would never consider. So she pressed buttons until she landed on a station that played jazz and blues. She worried it might put her to sleep but was surprised to find the gutsy sax and bass waking her up. Her fingers tapped a beat on the steering wheel. Maybe Pierre still had something to teach her—Austin, that is.
I must be delirious,
she thought.
As she made the final few turns into her quiet San Clemente neighborhood, the rain stopped. Julia turned off the wipers, the stereo, and finally the engine, as she parked in front of her apartment building. That’s when she saw something move in her periphery. She looked toward the narrow space between the neighbor’s house and her building. The two buildings, a large bougainvillea, and a weedy little tree created competing shadows. Nothing.
“Okay, you’re just hallucinating now, Julia. Get some sleep,” she said to herself as she opened the car door and hurried up the sidewalk.
The sound of her own voice in the dripping quiet after the rain only made her more nervous, and her hands shook as she fumbled for her keys. Her dad always told her to have her house keys out the moment she got out of the car, and she usually did. When she heard footsteps on the sidewalk behind her, she looked over her shoulder and saw a man walking toward her. He wore an oversized sweatshirt, and his hands were stuffed deep in the front pouch. His hood was pulled low over his face, so that she couldn’t make out his features even when he passed under a street lamp.
Her body felt suddenly wet and cold—not because it was raining, but because a chill sweat was surging through every single pore as she sprinted toward her stairway. She tripped up the stairs and leaped to her doorway, where she dropped the
was
pretty adorable.
“Hey, Julia,” Tyler’s familiar voice was a welcome sound. “How are you? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m pretty tired, though. I look like road kill, and I feel like it too.”
“Well, you’ve been through a terrible trauma. And I actually think the stitches are pretty hot.”
Julia couldn’t help but smile. “Oh good. Now I
do
see something good about that stupid zombie game you’ve been playing. Your standards are abysmal, you know that? Hey, I’m actually at Shakes right now. Wanna meet up?”
“I would, but I’m at Rob’s playing
Dead Space
before I crash. You know, college ball is a lot more demanding than high school ball, and these practices are killer. I’m sure you really need more rest too, after all you’ve been through. Why don’t we see each other this weekend?”
“Um, okay.” Julia said hesitantly. She could really use a dose of Tyler’s lightheartedness, and she was hoping that seeing him would put Austin out of her head. Tyler sensed her disappointment.
“Hey babe, if you want me to come over, I can tell Rob to stick it where the sun don’t shine.” A chorus of laughter in the background told Julia that Tyler was already preoccupied.
“No, that’s okay, Tyler. You’re right—I need to rest. Call me when you get a chance.”
“Take care, babe.”
“Okay, thanks,” she said and hit the end button.
Julia started home in the glistening darkness of a rainy, cloudy, moonless night. She was glad for the sugar buzz from the shake, because she could feel the scratches, sprains, and shocks of the past day and a half catching up with her. The monotony of the windshield wipers didn’t help. A couple of times she felt her eyes trying to close.
She shook her head, sucked down enough of her milkshake to give her brain freeze, and cranked the stereo. Someone was droning a teen rant about getting kicked out of a bar, and Julia sang along to stay awake. But she felt stupid singing about maxing out credit cards and ménage à trois and other risky, hedonistic BS she would never consider. So she pressed buttons until she landed on a station that played jazz and blues. She worried it might put her to sleep but was surprised to find the gutsy sax and bass waking her up. Her fingers tapped a beat on the steering wheel. Maybe Pierre still had something to teach her—Austin, that is.
I must be delirious,
she thought.
As she made the final few turns into her quiet San Clemente neighborhood, the rain stopped. Julia turned off the wipers, the stereo, and finally the engine, as she parked in front of her apartment building. That’s when she saw something move in her periphery. She looked toward the narrow space between the neighbor’s house and her building. The two buildings, a large bougainvillea, and a weedy little tree created competing shadows. Nothing.
“Okay, you’re just hallucinating now, Julia. Get some sleep,” she said to herself as she opened the car door and hurried up the sidewalk.
The sound of her own voice in the dripping quiet after the rain only made her more nervous, and her hands shook as she fumbled for her keys. Her dad always told her to have her house keys out the moment she got out of the car, and she usually did. When she heard footsteps on the sidewalk behind her, she looked over her shoulder and saw a man walking toward her. He wore an oversized sweatshirt, and his hands were stuffed deep in the front pouch. His hood was pulled low over his face, so that she couldn’t make out his features even when he passed under a street lamp.
Her body felt suddenly wet and cold—not because it was raining, but because a chill sweat was surging through every single pore as she sprinted toward her stairway. She tripped up the stairs and leaped to her doorway, where she dropped the
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