Random

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Authors: Tom Leveen
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suicidal guy really laugh? Unless he’s already made up his mind to go through with it, and all this is just some sick psycho thing he’s doing.
    â€œDo you really think this is funny?” I say.
    His laugh cuts short. “No.”
    â€œGood,” I say. “Because I don’t either.”
    â€œYou’re not really writing all this down, are you,” Andy says, kind of all of a sudden, and not like a question. “You’re not typing when I’m talking. . . .  Are you chatting with someone? Is that it?”
    â€œNo!”
    Oh yeah, that sounded believable.
    â€œWho is it, Tori? Don’t screw around with me.”
    The car engine revs.
    â€œIt’s no one—I mean, I’m not, no.”
    Worst. Liar. Ever.
    The engine sound dies down. “Oh, I get it,” Andy says. “You got a boyfriend? And now he’s all jealous over little old me?”
    â€œHe’s not my boyfriend,” I say.
    â€œAh,” Andy says. “So who is he?”
    â€œJust a friend. His name’s Noah.”
    â€œYeah? Is he hot?”
    â€œWhy, you want me to hook you two up or what?”
    Andy laughs. It’s about the most genuine laugh I’ve heard from him thus far. “No, that’s okay,” he says.
    â€œWhat about Kayla? Was she hot?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYour girlfriend,” I say. “Was she hot?”
    Andy goes silent for a few seconds. “I guess,” he says. “I didn’t think of her that way, though. I mean, I didn’t think of her exclusively in terms of how attractive she was. That’s not why I liked her.”
    He hesitates.
    â€œSo you and this Noah guy . . .”
    â€œI’m not dating Noah.”
    â€œWell, that’s what you say, but—”
    â€œNo, I mean, even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t. He’s my friend. It would be weird.”
    â€œAh,” Andy says. “Okay. So then is there someone else?”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause the story I’m going to tell you is a bit on the dark side,” Andy says, and I think, Surprise, surprise . “I want to know where you stand with relationships. You’re not seeing someone now?”
    I blow a hair out of my face. “Not for lack of trying, I guess.”
    â€œYeah? So you’re crushing on someone?”
    â€œI was.” I am , is more like the truth, but with each day passing that I don’t get to see or talk to Lucas, I worry that any chance I might have had is slipping.
    â€œWhat happened?” Andy asks.
    â€œI thought you wanted to talk about your girlfriend.”
    â€œI thought you said you’d do whatever it took to get me home safe.”
    This is a mind game. There’s no doubt about it, as far as I’m concerned, but, dammit, I can’t figure out what it is, and I can’t risk just hanging up. I feel like I’m a teller at a bank robbery and the robber only has a note saying he’ll kill a baby or something if I don’t hand over the money.
    Hostage. That’s what I am. A hostage.
    â€œYes,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “That’s true. Whatever it takes.”
    â€œI appreciate that,” Andy says, and his voice sort of changes for a second, like he’s shifting his sitting position or something.“So tell me about this guy you like. What’s his name?”
    Great.
    â€œLucas,” I say.
    â€œUh- huh , and where do you know him from . . . ?” Andy sings, like he’s having a grand old time.
    â€œSchool.”
    â€œHe like you back?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œAh, you haven’t told him yet.”
    â€œNot exactly. I was hoping to, but.”
    â€œBut?”
    â€œSome things came up.” Being charged with felonies has that effect, but I don’t say it to Andy.
    â€œWhat do you like about him?”
    â€œHe plays baseball,” I say, trying hard not

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