Reminisce With Me

Chapter 2: Dave Clavis

Heather barely spoke to me during our walk to school. 

"Don't talk to me," she mumbled when we sat down in our English class. I threw my hair in a loose ponytail, overlooking Heather's glare.

"Heather, I didn't say anything."

Mr. Hewitt strolled into class, his arms full of paper. "Good morning, everyone."

I pulled out my notebook, but from the corner of my eye, I could see Heather take in a handful of air. "Okay, why aren't you saying anything?" she questioned.

More students entered the classroom, brushing by us to find an empty desk. When sorrow comes, they come not single spies. But in battalions, the chalk board read. I could relate. 

I sighed loudly enough for the person in front of me to turn around. "What do you want me to say?" I asked her.

She twirled her pen between her fingers, a common gesture she does when she's frustrated. "You knew I wanted his to grab his attention. But instead, you just happened to bump into him, throwing our plan completely away."

My jaw dropped and I repeated her words in my head a few times, trying extremely hard to make sense of it. "You're kidding. Please tell me you're kidding."

Heather stood her ground, her lips pursed and eyes fixed on me. 

"Okay, Heather. I'll apologize," I started, turning my chair towards her. "I am sorry that the guy accidentally pushed me down. I am sorry he helped me up and we exchanged a few words. I mean, obviously all of this was planned." Heather leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed. She was not going to let this go. "I don't know what's wrong with you. I am not interested in some man I never met in my life. And frankly, you shouldn't be either considering he is probably twenty-six and you're seventeen. Get a grip, Heather."

I let out a deep breath and realized Mr. Hewitt was watching me. "All done, Ms. Van Alen?"

I smiled sheepishly, nodding. "All done."

I thought that staring at the clock would make the class feel shorter. But, I did not realize how slow the hands on the clock were. When the bell finally rang, I shoved my books back into my bag, hoping Heather and I could "rekindle" our friendship and move on from what happened this morning. But, she was nowhere in sight. 

Petty.

As I stepped out of class, I heard a familiar voice yell my name from down the hall. I smiled, a genuine one, as Julian waved.

"Hey, you."

Julian looked cozy in his varsity jacket. "Hi, you." He grinned. "Where are you heading?"

I shook Hamlet in front of him. "I am heading to the library to study for finals. You must be jealous."

Julian continued to stare in disbelief. His eyes were a lake surrounded by trees, reflecting the different hues of green. The little speck of amber was the sun peeking through the branches. You could find his eyes in the deepest part of the forest. 

"We have a couple of months left before finals," he reminded me, snatching my book away. "Come hang out with me, Vanessa, and Ricardo after school."

I thought about it. Heather wasn't here and I've turned Julian down enough times in the past since he did not get along with her. 

"Okay, that sounds fun," I told him, smiling. Maybe this was what I needed - to be a normal teenager.

"Good, I wouldn't have taken no for an answer." Julian gently tapped my shoulder with his and I flinched. I was sure I had bruise from the "accident" this morning. 

* * *

Vanessa's dad owned a Milk Shake joint in town called John's Milkshake Bar. I wondered how long it took him to come with that name.

I sat next to Julian while Vanessa and Ricardo sat in front of us. Though, we all went to the same high school for four year, this was my first time hanging out with them. Oddly enough, they were nice. Ricardo spoke about the football team and we all had a good laugh hearing about the Lockeroom stories. 

"Aubrey, swear to me you won't tell anyone about this," Ricardo begged. "Lockeroom stories stay in the Lockeroom."

I laughed. "I swear."

Note to self: Ricardo is disloyal. 

"What are you plans for the evening, Aubrey?" Vanessa asked, playing with the straw to her milkshake.

My plans. My heart dropped and I pulled out my phone, staring at the time. Shit, shit, shit. I took out a couple of bills and left it on the table, pushing past Julian. I had to get out of the booth. I had to get out of this diner. I had to be home. 

"Are you okay?" Julian held my arm, worried. I could barely hear him; my heart was pounding in my ear. It felt like there was an orchestra playing at the base of my eardrum. 

"Yes, I'm fine," I lied, too easily. "I realized I have to be home."

"Can you stay for a-" 

"No," I interrupted Julian. "I will see you all later, this was nice."

I didn't bother looking back to see their reaction. I couldn't waste any more time. 

When I finally reached the house, there were no cars on the driveway. Maybe Dave had to stay late for work? I quietly shut the door behind me, careful not to make a sound.  The lamps in the house casted shadows on the hardwood as I hurried towards the staircase. 

"Look who is here."

My foot was on the first step, but I couldn't move. My motor skills were non-existent and I stood at the bottom of the staircase, grasping the railing so tight that I thought it would break. 

My breath wavered and I didn't dare look at him. I couldn't. 

"Aubrey." His voice was softer this time. Some may even say soothing, that is, if they didn't know him. I could already see it: him standing behind me with a glass of overpriced whisky, a loose tie around his neck, and eyes dark as the Mariana's Trench. 

I slowly faced him, knowing the consequences that would follow if I continued to ignore his presence. I peered up at him, biting my bottom lip from not crying. "Good afternoon, Dave." I was surprised I was able to generate words – my tongue was so dry it hurt. 

He smiled, acknowledging my kind words. "Aubrey, will you please tell me the time."

Just like that, I knew how the rest of my evening was going to turn out. My body was throbbing even before he could lay a hand on me. I kept quiet, afraid to breathe. 

"You are so beautiful when you are troubled, dear," Dave whispered, taking a long sip of his drink. He took a few steps towards me, but I knew better than to run. He smelled of cologne and sweat.

Dave traced his finger along my cheek, brushing my hair away from my face. Don't scream, Aubrey. Don't scream, I reminded myself. 

"It is after 7PM," I answered under my breath. I could no longer hold the cry. I whimpered as his hand tugged my hair.

"Hmm," he pondered. "That's right. And you are late." 

I closed my eyes, humming the song from this morning in my head. I wanted that serenity back. Dave's hands weren't on me anymore and for a second, I thought it worked. I thought my patience was being rewarded. I thought - 

The collision of his hand against my cheek was the last thing I felt.