"I watch the moon, let it run my mood, can't stop thinking of you," -Tek It, Cafune
Maeve slammed her door, stalked over to her bed, and plopped down. She had just gotten into an argument with her mom. It wasn't serious, but she was already stressed about school, and she had gotten angry.
She opened her bedside drawer and pulled out a Marlboro box and a lighter, before opening her window that screeched in protest. Her mom didn't like it when she smoked in the house. Actually, she didn't like that she smoked at all, but you couldn't go anywhere in this town without breathing it in so what did it matter?
The anger had started to wear off and she started to feel guilty for taking out her stress and irritation on her mom. She knew that was the type of thing that her father did, knowing she got her anger issues from him.
Maeve's dad wasn't abusive—not physically anyways. She supposed she shouldn't complain about him, given the type of fathers her friends had, but he was an asshole. He was controlling, bipolar, and emotionally manipulative. He made Maeve and her mom miserable for years. Even though sometimes he could be the nicest person ever, get her gifts, apologize for what he did, and promise to never do it again. It didn't matter. Because at the end of the day, he would do it all over again.
At some point she stopped caring whether he was yelling at her or being nice. She hated him, and didn't put any effort into having a relationship with him. A few years ago her parents got separated, and she tried the whole split custody thing, but living with her dad was so emotionally draining that she decided to live with her mom permanently. He threw a fit of course, yelled, cried, guilt tripped, but eventually he decided to move to Missouri to be closer to his family. He still sends cards to Maeve and calls ever so often, asking her when she'll visit and wanting to see her, but she always makes up excuses of why she can't.
"I smell smoke. Are you smoking?" her mom shouted from the kitchen, breaking her train of thought.
"No," she yelled back, halfway out the window with a cancer stick in hand.
Her mom then walked in her room, looking angry upon seeing Maeve.
"You lied to me! Put that out, I'm sick of you smoking. You're gonna get lung cancer, and you only do it because all of your little friends do!" she scolded
"It's not that big of a deal mom," she said, stubbing out her cigarette on the window sill
"It is, and I better not catch you smoking in this house again! Now go to bed, it's getting late," her mom said, giving her the mom look, and walking out.
Even though she was already planning on going to bed, she didn't want to anymore now that her mom told her to.
If I can't smoke inside, I'll go outside
Maeve grabbed her jacket off the post of her bed and put it on. She made sure to grab her switchblade because you could never be too careful in this town, and hopped out her window. She made sure to leave it slightly open so that she could get back inside, then walked off.
She lit another cigarette while slowly walking down the sidewalk of her street. She didn't live in a particularly bad neighborhood—she was closer to middle class than most of her friends—but she was still on edge walking in the street at night.
She looked up at the waxing gibbous moon shining brightly through the trees. She always enjoyed looking at the moon and stars. They made her feel small and alone, but not in a bad way, it just made her realize that the universe is so big. There are so many possibilities out there, why should she waste time worrying about insignificant things in her life?
Just then, she heard the sound of metal scraping just ahead of her. She froze in her spot, considering turning home before pulling her switchblade out her pocket and flipping it open. As she slowly moved forward, the noise got louder. It sounded like it was coming from a car.
She braced herself for what she was about to see before moving around the bush, gripping her blade tightly in case she had to use it.
"Dally?" she said, surprised. He was bent down near the car's tires, a knife in hand.
"Jesus man," he said, jumping back startled, "what the hell's wrong with you Maeve, sneaking up on me like that?" He said, irritated. Though Maeve could see that he was a bit shaken up.
"Me? I thought you were an ax murderer! I was about to stab you!" she said, making stabbing gestures with her blade.
He huffed a laugh, "Yeah, sure you were. What are you doing anyways, walking around this late?"
"I was going out for a walk. What are you doing slashing tires this late?" she asked accusingly, smirking
"None of your business. Now why don't you go on home," he suggested, before turning back to what he was doing.
Ignoring both comments, she walked towards him.
"Who's car is this?"
He sighed in annoyance, "Some asshole with an attitude problem. Maybe this'll shut him up,"
Maeve stood there next to him, watching as he drew lines inside of the car with his blade.
"If you're not gonna leave you might as well help," he sighed.
"Want me to kick out the tail lights?" she suggested.
"Sure," he said, looking slightly surprised that she offered, "boy, Pearson's gonna be pissed when he sees this tomorrow," he said with a grin, his knife making screeching noises as he dragged it through the metal.
It took a couple tries, but Maeve eventually managed to shatter both tail lights. She stood back to admire her work. Dally had moved on to stashing at the front tires, when she heard a door creek open.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing!" yelled a guy from the front door Maeve could only assume was Pearson. She looked at Dally in panic, not knowing what to do. For a second she was worried he might start pummeling the guy—that was until Pearson stepped out into the light of the nearby street lamp, and she saw how big he was.
He had to be twice the size of Dally. Not that Dally wasn't a good fighter, most wouldn't dare fight him outta fear of a broken rib, but he wasn't that good.
"Winston!" Pearson barked angrily, moving towards them, "What the fuck did you do to my car?! I'm going to kill you!" he yelled.
Dally then turned, grabbed Maeve's hand, and ran. Her fight or flight hadn't kicked in yet, so she lost her footing, nearly falling down before regaining her balance and running alongside him.
"Hey! Get your sorry asses back here!" Pearson yelled from behind them.
Maeve struggled to keep up as Dally practically dragged her down the street. Given how much taller he was than her.
Maeve was running for her life. Her legs were burning, gripping Dally's hand tightly, holding on for dear life. She wanted to ask where exactly they were running to, but the combination of fear, and how out of breath she was kept her from doing so. For the first time in her life, she regretted not exercising more and smoking less.
"I'll get you, you son of a bitch!" Pearson yelled, sounding farther away, it turns out his size, although great for looking intimidating and fighting, was not ideal for running.
After a little while longer of running they eventually came to the lot. On the weekends, the grassy open space was filled with loud, drunk teenagers having a party, but on a Thursday night, the only thing there was trash and the sad old mattress that Johnny slept on when he couldn't stay home.
They slowed to a stop, still hand in hand, and it was as if there was a second when the both of them were aware of it but didn't make any move to break away. But the moment left as quickly as it came, when Maeve dropped down, sitting in the grass, no longer having the energy to stand.
A couple seconds later Dally dropped down, taking a seat next to her. For a moment there was just the silence between them, the only sounds of the two of them trying to regain their breath, and the wind blowing through the trees.
All of the sudden, Maeve started to laugh. It was just a little chuckle at first, but after seeing Dally's confused disbelieving face she started to laugh harder.
"Seriously?" he said, which tickled Maeve more. She was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe and she didn't even know why. You'd think she'd be more terrified after being chased by a huge man yelling threats behind them, but she just found the whole situation hilarious.
Eventually she could hear the faint sound low chuckling coming from Dally. She didn't think she'd ever heard him laugh before, he was always mean and angry, she liked the sound of his laugh.
She turned to him, "I've never heard you laugh before, I didn't think you were capable of it," she said jokingly, finally managing to get words out.
He immediately stopped, dropping his smile and looking away from her, as if realizing he was doing something he shouldn't have been.
"It's nice," she said, in a more serious tone, "you should do it more often,"
They didn't say anything for a while, Maeve looking up at the sky, silently admiring the moon and stars. She thought she felt Dally's gaze on her, but when she glanced over he was focused on something else, probably just her imagination.
"It's getting late, you should probably get home," he said finally breaking the silence, his voice back to its usual monotone self.
"Yeah," she said, agreeing, despite not wanting the adventurous night to end.
Both of them stood up off of the grass, "I'll walk you home, you don't need to be alone this late at night," Dally said.
"You walk around alone late at night," she countered.
"Yeah, well I can take care of myself," he said.
"And I can't?" said Maeve, offended that he thought she couldn't defend herself if need be.
He gave her an annoyed look, "Look fine you can walk home by yourself, and get jumped for all I care," he said gesturing with his arms and started to walk away.
"Wait, fine. You can walk me home," she said, exasperated.
"Please?" he said, waiting for her to answer, clearly wanting to make this hard on her.
Maeve sighed, "Please Dally, will you walk me home so I don't get attacked by vicious murderers?" she said sarcastically.
"That's better," he said smugly, walking with her towards her house.
They eventually reached Maeve's bedroom window that was, thankfully, still cracked open.
"You left your window open?" He asked, like she was stupid.
"How else was I supposed to get back in?"
"Someone could easily break into your house," he said.
"What, menacing people like you?" she teased.
Dally didn't reply. They both stayed silent, neither one making a move to leave. For a second they both locked eyes, Maeve looking into Dally's dark brown eyes, made black by the night sky. Dally looked into her light brown ones that, despite the cool and dark atmosphere, still looked warm, and kind, so different from his, even though they were nearly the same color.
After a couple seconds went by he awkwardly broke eye contact, whatever moment they had over.
"I guess I'll see you," he said before turning and walking off into the darkness.
"Yeah," she said quietly, doubting he heard her.
She turned away from him and climbed through her window and back into her house, shutting the window with some difficulty. It was a good thing her mom was a heavy sleeper and couldn't hear the loud squeak of her window shutting.
She locked her window and closed her blinds before changing out of her old clothes and into some more comfortable ones. She turned her lights and slipped into bed, having no trouble falling asleep, now that the adrenaline had worn off. The whole running three blocks to escape the crazy guy chasing them also wore her out.
It was a night she knew she'd never forget, for more than one reason.