All American Boys

2. Handy Hayden

All American Boys

Chapter 2: Handy Hayden

I couldn't stop thinking about that afternoon. More specifically, I couldn't stop thinking about the warmth of his large hand, the way our skins brushed against each other, the way our fingers intertwined. Just as quickly as it started, he let go of me soon after.

"I'm so sorry," he said, flustered, a soft red a glow spreading to his cheeks. "I didn't mean to."

I was still quite frozen from him grabbing my hand, so I only stared at him for a while before I finally managed to recover my composure.

"It's fine, really," I replied. "Happens all the time."

"Yeah," he chuckled nervously. "I bet it does."

He never mentioned it on the drive home, but it never left my mind. He was less chatty than he was when we were driving up to the graveyard, but maybe it was just because he was tired. I wondered what he thought about earlier, but of course I wasn't going to ask. Was he also still pondering about it, or did he just chuck it to the back of his mind? I wouldn't know, and the uncertainty ate away at me.

The incident was all I could think about that week, as the days passed by and the start of the term drew nearer. Even as I lay there in bed, trying to fall asleep to catch some much-needed rest before the first day of school, I couldn't help but remember the sensation of his hand holding mine. Twist and turn as I may, I couldn't get it out of my head. There was a tingling sensation on my palm, as if his skin was still grazing against his. I tried to ignore it, but my heart just kept on thumping in my chest.

It was then when I heard something shuffling. My eyes immediately fluttered open. It couldn't be mom could it? She was working the night shift at the hospital, and I doubt she'd be back so early. I turned to look at the clock on my bedside table. The neon letters read one fifty-three. I slowly pulled the sheets off me, trying to be as silent as I could as I felt my toes touch the wooden floor. A creeping fear gnawed at me. Could it be an intruder? My heart raced as I thought of all the horrible things that could happen. As I tried to control my breathing, I weighed my options: I could either hide or take my chances and head downstairs to see what it was all about. I mean, I wasn't even sure if there was even anyone in the house in the first place. Another part of me just wanted to go back to sleep, but just as that thought crossed my mind, I heard a loud crash coming from downstairs. Now I was sure there was someone in the house. And it probably wasn't mom.

I didn't even bother to keep it quiet as I raced across my room to grab my phone. I had to call the police. With shaky hands I picked up my phone from the nightstand, my thumb slamming onto the power button. But no matter what I did, the screen wouldn't light up. I tried desperately one more time to switch it on, pressing as hard as I could. I didn't know if it was because of my sweaty palms or my shaky hands, but to my horror the phone slipped away and fell to the floor, a thump resonating through the silence. I didn't know if it was the adrenaline talking, but it was possibly the loudest sound I had ever heard.

Whoever was downstairs must've probably heard that. Wasting no time, I opened my cupboard and took out my dad's old baseball bat. Whoever it was, if it dared came for me was going to be in for a huge surprise.

"Alex!" I heard a familiar voice call out from downstairs. "Is that you?"

It was none other than Hayden. I let out a deep sigh of relief. My pounding heart relaxed for a brief second, only for it to start racing again.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you!" he yelled from downstairs.

"Well stop yelling!" I replied. "You'll wake up the neighbours!"