by Shay Savage
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mayra was leaning over in front of Justin with her palms flat on the table. He leaned so his chair was balanced on its back two legs and grinned up at her.
“No idea what you mean, babe,” he responded with a wide grin. “As far as I can tell, I’m perfect.”
His buddies laughed, and Mayra continued her tirade.
“You leave Matthew and me alone!” she ordered. She lifted her hands up off the table and shook one finger at him. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, and you know that! I thought we were going to try to at least be friends, but I see you are going to make that impossible!”
The sharp sound of the front legs of Justin’s chair hitting the floor as he leaned forward filled the cafeteria and made me cringe. A lot of conversations around us ended right about then, and the room grew quiet. When I looked up at him, there was a look in Justin’s eyes I didn’t like at all. It was beyond the normal look of someone who just wanted to show his friends how awesome he was by picking on others. I looked back at the floor, unable to keep my eyes on his. His expression was full of malice, and I suddenly didn’t want Mayra near him at all. I reached out and gripped the lower part of her arm, trying to coax her away.
“Oh, we were never going to be friends.” Justin sneered as he leaned close to her. I kept my grip on her arm, but Mayra refused to move. “Never just friends.”
That’s when they started screaming at each other.
“You piece of shit—”
“Frigid little cunt—”
“Fucking bastard!”
I pulled on Mayra’s arm with some force, deciding it was best to just get her away before the attention of the school faculty was captured, if it wasn’t already. Besides, I still didn’t like Justin’s look at all, and I wanted to get her away from him as quickly as possible. She took a step toward me but still glared at Lords.
“You can drag her away all you like!” Justin called after us as I wrapped one arm around Mayra and yanked her out of the lunchroom. She wasn’t really fighting me, but she wasn’t exactly cooperating either. “It’s the only way she’ll ever put out, you know!”
~oOo~
“You shouldn’t have pulled me away,” Mayra said later as she drove us back to my house. “I was not done talking with him!”
“You didn’t need to…confront him,” I told her. “Not on my account. It was no big deal.”
“No big deal?” Mayra repeated with a harsh laugh. “He practically attacked you. Aimee told me all about it in last period, and you weren’t even going to say anything, were you?”
“No,” I admitted. “It was over. There wasn’t really anything to say.”
“Matthew!” Mayra turned and gaped at me. I cringed a little, looking forward toward the street and back to her, hoping she would get her eyes back on the road. She seemed to notice and turned her head to face forward again as she let out a big sigh. “You don’t have to put up with that shit. Not from people like him.”
“You dated him,” I said. I immediately regretted the reminder. I reached out and touched the fish shape on the door.
“Yes, I did,” Mayra said quietly. “But he wasn’t always like that. Not with me, at least. When he…he…”
She paused for a moment and then reached over and gripped my hand. I returned the hold as she seemed to gather herself back together. Another sharp breath exited her lungs before she spoke again.
“When he showed his true colors, that’s when I ended it. He never really accepted that though. I guess now he finally realizes I’m serious, and all his attempts at trying to talk me into going out with him again are pointless.”
“Because you moved on,” I said softly. I wasn’t comfortable with this conversation at all. I was pretty sure I was supposed to console someone when they talked about a breakup, but my stomach felt tight, and I didn’t know what to say.
“Oh, he’s moved on, too,” Mayra said, her voice harsh. “A couple of times, at least.”
I wasn’t one to keep up with high school relationships and gossip, so I really wasn’t sure what she meant. I assumed he had dated some other girls since they broke up, but I had no idea who they might have been, and Mayra didn’t offer any further explanation.
We didn’t speak much the rest of the way back to my house, and once we were there, the atmosphere was different—uncomfortable. I didn’t like it at all. Mayra was obviously still upset, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do about it. She pulled out math homework and scribbled down a few answers, but she obviously wasn’t concentrating on it at all. I wanted to do or say something to make everything normal again, but I didn’t know what I should do or say. I finally decided homework definitely wasn’t working, and Mayra didn’t seem to be accomplishing much anyway, so I poured two Cokes with four pieces of ice each, and we sat on the couch to drink them.
After a few minutes of silence, Mayra finally spoke.
“He was really great when we first started dating,” she told me. “He said all the right things, kissed up to Dad, and took me out every weekend. He was a perfect gentleman the whole time, too. I thought everything was going along just fine until he made it clear he was expecting more than I was interested in giving.”
I tensed, not really wanting to think of what the details of “more” might have meant.
“He got a little…demanding,” Mayra continued. “That’s when I broke up with him. It was kind of an ugly scene. I’ll spare you the details.”
I nodded, quietly relieved. At some point the lack of information was probably going to bother me, and I would ask her, but I didn’t want to know just then. Mayra leaned back against the couch and ran her hand through her hair. She turned to look at me, and I felt her fingers wrapping around my arm.
“I’m sorry he did that to you,” she said. “I can’t help but feel responsible. It was my idea to make sure everyone knew about us. I should have realized he was going to be a jerk about it and at least warned you.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “He’s been a jerk to me before.”
“I guess what people say is true. Once you date someone, you can never really be friends again.”
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug.
“Because I’m your first girlfriend,” Mayra said with a nod.
I felt myself tense up again, and it didn’t go without Mayra noticing.
“What?” she asked.
“Um…well, I did have another girlfriend once.”
“You did?” Mayra sounded shocked, but I couldn’t really blame her for that. “Who?”
“Um…Carmen Klug.”
“Carmen Klug!” Mayra released my arm and sat straight up. She moved away from me a little on the couch. “You dated Carmen Klug?”
“Well, um, sort of.”
“Sort of?” Mayra’s eyes narrowed as she looked at me. “Out with it, Rohan.”
I felt heat on the back of my neck, and I lifted my hand to cover the area I figured was turning red. I glanced at her, feeling more embarrassed for even bringing it up. I wasn’t something I had thought about for a long time.
“It wasn’t for very long,” I said, “and it was a while ago. I was never really sure what to think about it. We weren’t really friends before we were boyfriend and girlfriend, so nothing really changed after it was over.”
Mayra continued to look at me, waiting for details I wasn’t sure how to provide. It then occurred to me that I was leaving out something that could be considered rather important.
“We were six at the time.”
“Six?” Mayra repeated. “You mean six years old?”
“Yes.”
Mayra giggled and reached for my hand.
“All right, Matthew Rohan. Tell me all about your sordid love affair with Carmen in the first grade.”
She giggled again.
“Beginning of second grade, actually,” I admitted. Mayra waved her hand around, urging me to continue. “Well, she came
over to me at recess and told me I was her boyfriend, and she was my girlfriend.”
Mayra’s eyes widened.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes.”
“And how did she figure that?”
“Apparently, Aimee had a boyfriend, so Carmen thought she needed one, too. I had to carry her backpack on and off the bus for her—she lived just down the street from here when we were little. I think it lasted about two weeks before she told me her mother said she wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend, and that’s when we broke up.”
I felt Mayra’s hand on the side of my face, and I turned my head to meet her eyes briefly.
“You are adorable. Do you know that?” she asked.
I just shook my head and smiled a little.
“Well, you are,” she insisted.
I couldn’t really argue with her, so I moved closer and pressed my lips against hers. We spent an hour on the couch, and I spent the time worrying about our date.
Overall, today was a win.
Chapter 12—Maybe Dating is a Bad Idea
I had at least an hour before I had to pick up Mayra, but I was already in the car and traveling in the same circle I had traversed when trying to get to her house for a piece of cake. Tonight was going to be our first real date. Instead of taking the drive to Cincinnati or Hamilton, we decide to stick with Uptown Oxford. We were going to get bagels from the Bagel and Deli and eat them in the park.
If I could get to her house, that is.
I figured if I left early enough, I would eventually be able to get there on time, maybe even a little early. I had the feeling Mr. Trevino was going to play the proper father-figure when I came to pick her up even though Mayra said she had made him promise to be nice when I came to get her. At least I had already met him officially, so there was a little less pressure.
I checked the gauges on my car and decided it would be a good idea to top off the tank and maybe check my oil and tire pressure, too. There was still plenty of time before I was supposed to be at Mayra’s house, so I drove to the nearest gas station and filled up. While I was checking the tire pressure, I saw Justin Lords and three other guys coming out of the convenience store attached to the gas station. Justin looked over at me and smirked as he leaned over and said something quietly into the ear of one of the guys with him. They both laughed but didn’t come near me or anything. I found myself breathing easier after the group drove off, though.
After cleaning the windshield and wipers for the second time, I wiped down the rear view mirror and decided I could probably head over to Mayra’s house now. I reminded myself that I had been over there twice this week, and everything had been fine, even when I had to park next to Mr. Trevino’s truck. I drove around the block four times again but managed to get myself into Mayra’s driveway with about five minutes to spare.
I sat in my car for a while, considering the phrase “fashionably late” and wondering if it applied to picking up your girlfriend for a night out. Glancing up at the kitchen window, I saw Mayra standing inside with her arms crossed and smiling at me. She shook her head a little before beckoning me with a finger. I peeked at myself in the mirror, tried to smooth out my hair a little, got out of the car, and walked up to the front door.
Mr. Trevino answered, and I had to swallow a big lump in my throat before I could speak. I wanted to say something like, “Good evening, Mr. Trevino. I’m here to pick up Mayra.” However, that’s not quite what came out.
“Um…hi.” I turned my head a little and closed my eyes tightly as I tried to get a grip on myself. I cleared my throat and thought I would try again, but no sound came out at all.
Mr. Trevino chuckled low, then stepped aside and opened the door wide.
“Come on in, Matthew. Mayra’s been ready since noon or something.”
“Dad!” Mayra glared at him as she came out from around the kitchen entryway. She was dressed in a dark blue blouse and a black skirt, which flowed out around her thighs. She had done something to her hair to make it all wavy instead of straight, and she had on a bit of eye makeup, which she didn’t usually wear.
She was stunning, and I realized I was staring at her with my mouth open, so I quickly closed it. Her father continued to snicker softly while I tried to come up with some words to say about how nice she looked. Apparently, I had been rendered speechless.
“Come on,” Mayra said. “Let’s go before Dad decides to be funny again.”
Bethany was definitely right about one thing: not bringing up the subject of soccer until we were on our date was a brilliant idea. Mayra talked and talked about the teams she had played on and the tournaments her teams had won and lost. She also gave me answers to the questions I occasionally asked. The conversation continued even after we finished our bagels on the park bench and watched the university students stumble from bar to bar. I was actually getting kind of excited about the soccer season starting up soon even though it would mean a fairly drastic change to our current routine as Mayra would need to make time for practices and games.
“You can work on your homework when I’m at practice,” Mayra said. “There are a lot of people who sit in the stands and watch while they do their homework.”
“When are the games?” I asked. We crumpled up the foil that had held the warm bagels and tossed it in a nearby trash can. Mayra grabbed my hand, and we walked up and down the sidewalks that lined the old, brick street of Uptown. It was a beautiful night with no clouds in sight. The moon and stars shone down on us as we held hands and walked aimlessly.
“Usually on the weekends,” she said, “but there are some during the week as well—mostly on Wednesdays or Thursdays.”
I nodded and tried to mentally prepare myself for games being on different days of the week. I thought I could cope with that, especially since Mayra said she would have a complete schedule of games sometime next week.
We continued walking and talking, not really paying much attention to where we were going. We came to the end of High Street and turned to walk past the old library and around the corner. The side street held a lot of student housing, and every house seemed to be having a party of some sort. There were a lot of obviously drunk people laughing and passing cups of beer around.
I was all for turning around and going back the way we came, but Mayra was concerned it was starting to get late, and we had both promised her father we would be back before midnight. There was a dark alleyway that made a good shortcut back to the car, so I didn’t protest.
There weren’t any streetlights in that area, only the light outside of Mac and Joe’s, the dive bar popular with students and townies alike. Mayra let go of my hand and moved closer so she could wrap her arm around my waist, and I placed mine over her shoulders. My face was actually starting to ache from smiling so much, and I wondered what I had done to be so lucky.
Turning my head a little, I leaned my cheek on the top of her head, inhaled the sweet scent of her hair, and placed a light kiss on her temple.
“Well, isn’t that sweet.” A voice came from behind us, followed by laughter both from the darkened alley entrance in front of us as well as behind us. “A couple of little lovebirds out for a stroll.”
Two figures stepped out of the alleyway right in front of us, and when I glanced over my shoulder I could see the silhouettes of two more approach from the way we had just come. The ones in front blocked our forward progression, and I felt Mayra tense next to me as her arm tightened around my torso.
I couldn’t take Mayra safely forward or backward, so we stopped in the middle of the dark street as the figures in front of us stepped out of the shadows. I heard Mayra’s sharp intake of air.
“I told you we weren’t done,” a voice said as the figures walked toward us.
“Justin, what the hell are you doing here?” Mayra yelled as Lords’ face became visible in the moonlight. I pulled her a little closer and whispered her name in caution, hoping maybe she’d just consider being quiet for a minute. Bullies usuall
y backed off and got bored if you were quiet and didn’t respond to them. The more she talked, the more it would egg him on.
“Just taking a little stroll, same as you,” he retorted. The guy next to him cackled, and I recognized him as someone who had graduated a year or two ago. I was pretty sure his name was Mark, and he had also been on the Talawanda football team.
“I’ve had enough of your shit,” Mayra told him. “Come on, Matthew.”
Mayra started moving forward, but before I could even take a step with her, Justin nodded toward his buddies behind us, and I felt my arms being grabbed from behind. Mayra cried out and turned toward me as I was pulled backward, but as soon as she did, Mark moved forward and grabbed her arms, too.
My arms were wrenched behind my back, and I immediately noticed the two guys grabbing onto me smelled of stale beer and cigarettes. As I felt an arm move around my neck, effectively holding me in a headlock, I had a strange, surreal feeling I had only encountered once before. It had been in the hospital when my mom was dying. I recalled the doctors telling Travis it could be any time now, and his reddened eyes had turned to mine as he walked over and pulled me close to him.
“Come here, Travis,” Mom had said, and he released me to sit on the chair beside her bed. In a raspy voice, she told him to make sure he took care of me, and he promised her he would. Then she called me over, and I sat beside her and held her hand to the side of my face because she couldn’t quite hold her arm up without help.
“My beautiful boy,” she whispered. “So much we were still supposed to do.”
Even with the warm feeling of her palm pressed to my cheek, it felt like I wasn’t there—like I wasn’t even in the room at all but watching all of this happen to someone else. She didn’t look like she was supposed to, and I didn’t feel like myself. In my head, I wondered if it was just a dream and what I was going to have to do to wake up from it. Deep inside of me, there was a tiny ember of anger over what was happening to her—to me—but there had been nothing I could do to stop it. The burning feeling just sat there in my gut with nowhere to go.