Knockout Boys

Chapter 22: the Maze

It was an hour until midnight. Still Friday night, but almost Saturday morning. The late night quiet was interrupted by the grumble of an approaching engine, an unusual sound in this small town. I leapt out of bed and raced to the window. But it did not stop for me. The car disappeared to the end of the road where the street lights faded into darkness. I flopped back onto my bed, feeling my heart jump unnaturally. This wasn't right. River should've been here a long time ago. What was keeping her?

"Come on, River," I muttered. If she didn't get me to the maze in time, word would get out that I chickened out of my own fight. I swore under my breath, and quietly, opened my door a crack and slipped out of my room. Carefully, I tiptoed down the hallway, careful to avoid the places I knew the old wood creaked.

I opened the front door, and the winter gave me a cold greeting, chilling me to the bone. I ducked inside the house again to grab my coat. Then I walked back outside to wait, shivering from something more than the cold. I was supposed to fight Paul tonight. I'd never so much as hit Paul, ever. Even when he beat me, I couldn't even push him away. I only froze and curled into a tiny, helpless ball.

Slowly, I sat down on the porch, and put my head in my hands. I didn't think this through at all. I had no way of getting to the maze on my own. Dad locked up the car in the garage and there was no way I could walk to the maze in time. Inevitably, I found myself calling him, as I always seemed to do in desperate situations. This was going to be awkward since I purposefully didn't tell Kevin about the shenanigans with Paul. Kevin was hurt real bad, and I didn't want him to get involved. Yet here I was, disturbing his rest because I couldn't get my own shit together.

"Rocky?" Kevin's voice was hoarse and slow, as if he had just been woken up from a deep sleep. "Are you okay?"

"Well..." I rambled. Best to tell him quick, like ripping off a scab. "Long story short, I challenged Paul to fight at the maze tonight. My ride fell through. Do you know anyone who could help me out?"

There was a pause. A stream of swears greeted my ears. "What the fuck, Rocky?" he hissed. "You were going alone? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Not alone," I pointed out. "River was gonna drive me."

"Who the fuck is River?"

"Never mind," I mumbled. "I don't think she's coming." Something must have stopped her. River wouldn't stand me up for something this important. Maybe her parents caught her sneaking out?

Kevin groaned and swore again. "All right," he said. "I'll get you a ride."

"Thanks, Kev!" I exclaimed, relief flooding through me.

I heard Kevin sigh. "This is some bullshit." Then he abruptly hung up.

***

Half an hour later, with no more word from Kevin, I saw headlights in the distance, carving a bright yellow-white path in the unlit road. A large, black van screeched to a halt outside my house, the kind kidnappers use in all those movies. The window rolled down, and I saw Kevin's battered face grin from the passengers seat.

"What the hell?" I hissed, running up to the van. His arm was in a sling, and he was leaning against the seat. Kevin looked tired, though his eyes were alive and bright, and his face somehow, impossibly attractive. "Are you okay?" I whispered.

A throaty, smoker's cough alerted me to the driver. "Get in, faggot." It was a grown man's voice. I stood on my tip-toes to peer inside, taking in a rancid stench of ashes and food gone bad. The interior appeared filthy, even in the poor lighting. I looked past Kevin at the stocky, bearded figure beside him, and my jaw dropped. It was as if someone took a snapshot of Kevin at his worst, filtered it with a cheap oldify app until he looked like an anti-smoking ad, then slapped on an unkempt beard.