WARNING! this includes sensitive topics that could be uncomfortable to some readers. please proceed with caution.
•the address and school name are things I made up on the spot, fyi
"let's go patriots, let's go!"
"let's go patriots, let's go!"
"let's go patriots, let's go!"
the cheering, the shouting, the clapping, the bells and whistles around me made my head pound. who could even pretend to enjoy this? it was just a mix of competitive parents and sticky-fingered kids screaming at the top of their lungs, god knows what the hell they were even saying.
"(Y/N)!"
the shouting of my name snapped me away from my thoughts.
"huh? what? what were you saying liz?"
"I've been trying to get your attention for like five minutes. seriously, you need to get that zoning-out thing checked out."
Liz Castro, not my favorite person in the world but she's one I can stand. She can be kind of snotty and judge-mental, but overall she's pretty nice, and it's not like she would intentionally hurt me.
"hey, my dad doesn't own a hospital like yours." I joke. "at least I-"
"and Jones, number 46, makes another home run! as expected from our star player!"
Alfred F. Jones. a star varsity athlete at washington high, but where he really shone was in baseball. they called him "one-hit-jones." he could hit any ball thrown at him, first try. and his throwing arm was even better, I don't think this field has ever seen an opponent hit one of his pitches. his athletic abilities weren't the only thing to one-hit-Jones. arrogance on top of ignorance, stacked sky high like waffles in a breakfast diner, and an ego more supersized than his fast-food meals, that was what Jones was made out of. he thinks he's the best of the best, "a top of the line hero" as he would call himself.
and guess who fell for him? Liz. how could she not? they would be perfect together, both somewhat stuck-up and wealthy. they would be the picturesque vision of the american love story dream. with bouncing blonde hair, and glittering blue eyes, how could they be anything but?
but, I couldn't help but be jealous. I can't exactly pinpoint why. it definitely wasn't alfred, he's not my type whatsoever. there's nothing special to him except his lack of awareness for others around him, and his athletics. so why?
"and patriots win the game! 10 to 3!"
the crowd roars louder than before, both with selfish joy and unnecessary anger.
Liz jumped to her feet and ran to the dugout, leaving me alone.
"well, she's gone. guess I'll just start walking home then." I murmur to myself, lifting from the cold bleacher.
why do I even come to these anymore? it's not like I enjoy them, and whenever I do come all Liz does is fawn over Alfred.
it had been about forty minutes, and the sun was damn near set. the array of peachy-golden ribbons of light had faded, and the sea of evening was flooding in fast. I have about a mile to go, and if I walk fast and take the shortcut I'll make it in ten minutes.
as soon as I quicken my pace, I hear soft footsteps behind me. I live in a generally safe area, so I don't think much of it.
not long after, the steps get louder and faster.
I'm sure they just have somewhere to be.
I turn into an alleyway, I go through it on my every-day route from school as a shortcut. it was between two restaurants that I went to often, so I felt safe going through it.
suddenly I felt a presence centimeters away from me.
"you smell... sweet." a deep, raspy voice said.
my eyes widened, and the rest of my being tensed. I always thought I would be able to handle a situation like this. run, kick him in the balls, bite, scream. something (y/n)! something, just do it! my body didn't obey the commands of my brain, and I just stood there frozen.
"may I... have a taste?"
before I knew it, the figure wrapped it's rugged arms around my arms and torso like a snake; nearly suffocating me. I tried to scream, I really did, but all that let out we're tiny squeaks.
a cold, slimy, rough tongue slid from the nape of my neck, up to the base of my ear. I nearly lost consciousness. wether it was from lack of oxygen, or pure disgust, I'm not sure.
somehow, the grip got tighter.
"so... sweet. I want... more."
one arm relaxed, the hold still at it's previous strength, and started to crawl under my shirt as he continued to lap his tongue on my skin.
his fingers were cold, like icicles in the dead of winter. shivers raced through my body. I quivered with every movement he made.
the icicles reached the bottom of my bra.
then suddenly, they stopped. the anaconda grip, the frost-bitten fingers, the slimy snail-like motion on my neck, it all ended.
I spin around to see a man well into his thirties, with long blond hair passed out on the floor. another blonde, this one with shorter hair and glasses, standing over him with a baseball bat.
alfred?
I dropped to my knees, and wept. tears spilling out of my eyes and indescribable sounds exciting my lips.
how could I let this happen? I'm so stupid. why did I need someone to save me? why did I just freeze up like that?
the wooden bat fell to the floor with a clang. in exchange for the bat, alfred held me instead. one hand softly drawing circles on my upper back, and the other clutched around my shoulders in front of my body. he whispered comforting sounds into my ears, as a mother would a crying baby.
"hey don't cry darling. look at me." he tilted my face from my hands and brought me to look up into his ocean blue eyes. "it's over. I called the police, and he's going away for a very long time. it's all over, it will never happen again. I promise." he brought my face into his chest.
abruptly, I was swept up into his arms, resting in them like an infant. "don't worry, I'm taking you home. just relax."
his steps were quiet, and his walk was smooth. I hardly felt a bounce in any of his steps. I have to admit, I felt comfortable in his arms. comfortable, warm, and safe.
"what's your address doll?"
"246, mission drive."
I liked the things he was calling me. I know a lot of girls would think it was kind of creepy, considering the situation, but it felt nice in the moment.
I started to relax, and my sobs turned into small sniffles.
"alright beautiful, we're here." announced alfred, gently setting me down to stand.
I fiddled with my pants pocket and pulled out my house key. I inserted it into the lock and opened the door. the house was dark, the only source of light being the porch.
before I stepped in, I turned to alfred and wrapped him in a tight hug. he enveloped his arms around me as well and gently pet the stands of my hair.
"alfred..."
"yes?"
"can you um... maybe... stay with me tonight? my parents are on a business trip and my brother is at his girlfriends place. please?"
immediately after I asked my face felt as if it were on fire, and my chest started to pound.
a pair of lips pressed lightly against my tippy top of head.
"of course, sweetheart."
we went inside and crashed on my bed. I snuggled into his chest. his arms were wrapped around me gently, but still in a protective manner.
maybe alfred wasn't just a star athlete. maybe he didn't have a supersized ego meal with a large cup of arrogance soda and extra ignorance sauce on the side.
maybe he was something special.