Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ A Fugitive and Me ❯ Bad Day ( Chapter 8 )

Chapter 8- Bad Day

 

I'm dead tired, it's seven-thirty AM and my locker is being a bitch, I'm putting the right code in but it won't open. After about four tries I'm really getting pissed off.

 

“Open! You stupid piece of shit!” I kicked it and hissed when it still didn't open. I'm still abusing it when Miles comes hopping over, damn him for being not only a morning person, but a Monday person a well.

 

“Hey Cupcake,” he hugged me, I ignored him. “Aren't you locker number one-eighty-five?” He pointed to the small number `one-eighty-four' on the front of the locker I was currently destroying. I looked up at it and paused, mouth falling open. Oh, so that's why it wouldn't open. I grumble something under my breath and trudge over to my real locker. It opens on my first try.

 

“Moron,” Miles rolled his eyes. “So, anyway, have you talked to the love of your life yet? Teachers always come early, still got fifteen minutes before first period starts,” He said suggestively, leaning against the lockers.

 

“I thought you wanted me to forget about him, you know, the whole whorish tease thing?” I didn't realize it until after I said that but there's a girl standing behind Miles and she looks a little freaked out. “And all that about the one-night stands, multiple short term boyfriends,” I continued, watching her from the corner of my eye. She's blushing like crazy and I find this hilarious.

 

“Yeah, well, it's not nice to assume he's a skanky slut until you get his side of the story,” Miles seemed to get the idea of what I was doing, and of course, being the awesome person that he is, he played along.

 

“Oh really,” I laughed. “Since when do you care?” I mean, even though I suppose he's kind of right about it.

 

“I think since like… last night when you fucked me in Rover's dog house,” I think he was already holding back laughter, even before she made a reaction. She's just like, frozen there, staring into her locker as if it's crawling with giant bugs. For the record, Miles does not have a dog called Rover, or a doghouse, thus making his story untrue.

 

“Oh, yeah, with my new strap-on-vibrator, `cause you know, we transsexual boys don't have anything to stick anywhere,” I nodded. There's a loud slam and the girl is hurrying down the hallway, hugging her books. As soon as she turns the corner we both burst out laughing.

 

“Dude, I didn't know you had the ability to be crude,” He was hanging on me, I think he was going to faint. But really, the whole thing wasn't that funny. “I mean fuck, I didn't even know you knew what a vibrator was!” He was giggling madly, I don't think he realized that I'd stopped laughing, and was now trying to get around him to finish at my locker.

 

I'm not completely sure what happened, but I think he threw his head back in his fit of laughter which collided with my locker door, which slammed shut, right on my poor fingers.

 

“Fuck!” I shouted. If I wasn't in so much pain I may have noticed better that my profanity was now echoing through the school. I fell against the locker beside mine, staring at my bloody pointer and forefinger, trying to hold back the sobs.

 

“Fuuuucccccckkkk,” I cried, shoving the two fingers in my mouth and sucking on them. My eyes moved to Miles a moment, he looked sorry, in fact, he looked devastated. He just crushed the poor misunderstood, miserable gay boy's fingers in a locker. He'd better be sorry.

 

“Watch the language, Murphy,” I hear the sound of a door clicking shut and then suddenly Tom is standing right there, like four feet away from me. What the hell was he doing in Mrs. Natehiemer's classroom? Hmm, if he wasn't a fag I'd accuse him of having an affair with her, they are after all the same age.

 

“As if you don't have a naughty potty mouth, Tom,” I scoffed. He looked a little taken back, like he didn't expect the back sassing. Normally I probably wouldn't have said something like that to any teacher, even one who's room I spent the night in. But right now, my fingers hurt like hell and I'm pissed off.

 

“See you in class,” He says, eyeing both of us as if he's actually some big threatening teacher guy. I glare at him as he walks away, keeping my gaze locked on him until he turns the corner. I don't realize my glaring had turned to checking him out until he's out of site.

 

“Mhm, Whorish tease, definitely,” Miles nodded. “Walks like one,” He added. I shot him a look and he looked back at me, confirming that he was actually serious. Fingers still in my mouth, I rolled my eyes, grabbing him by his shirt with my free hand and pulling him along.

 

-0-0-0-

 

Lunch is a drag, I spend a dollar on a bottle of Dr. Pepper because I'm not hungry, and Miles is standing in line for pizza for half the period. Dwayne is still not sitting with us, the kids at the table beside ours that usually communicate with us are completely ignoring me. So, I'm sitting here, completely silent. Looking around the room I spot Mel speaking with the cashier and paying for a plate of nachos and a bowl of broccoli. Normally I like broccoli, but I don't trust the food that the school cooks, it looks disgusting too. I don't know how Mellow Yellow can stand it, why he would be spending money on it. Maybe I should stop calling him Mellow Yellow, I don't think we're friends anymore…

 

“Hey hey, how's my favorite gay boy?” I got a pat on the shoulder and rolled my eyes when Miles sat across from me with a plate of two pieces of pizza, suddenly I'm hungry.

 

“Why do you call me that?” I asked idly.

 

“Because, you are my favorite gay boy,” He gave me this adorable innocent look that I couldn't help but smile at.

 

“Well, it bothers me for some reason, okay?” I sighed, feeling dumb just for saying something like that, why the hell should it bother me? “Besides, it has no meaning to me, as I happen to be your only gay boy,” I mumbled.

 

“Completely untrue, here comes my other one right now,” Miles grinned, completely ignoring my original statement. Before I had time to look back to see who he was talking about, Mel came by our table, walking fast and staring down at his tray obviously hoping we wouldn't see him. He's a weird-ass, I've said it and I'll say it again. Miles had him by the upper arm and pulled to a stop before he could get away.

 

“Hey, Melvin,” His voice was friendly, sincere, sympathetic, I wish I had the ability to talk to people that way, I always end up getting the finger.

 

“ Uh, hi, is there something you wanted?” Mel's voice on the other hand, rude, annoyed, spiteful, I suppose I should be glad I'm not him, even if I can't be Miles. After all, if I were Miles I'd have to go out with Terry, and do other things… Eep! Nasty thoughts.

 

“Hmm, yeah, sit down,” Mile's voice had lost its sincerity. Mel seemed to swallow as he obeyed, moving slowly toward the seat beside Miles to take a seat.

 

“So,” Miles smiled at him, and then turned to me, oh shit. “Fox, you have something to say to this nice young boy?”

 

“Uhhh…” I stared at Mel as he stared at his food. Damn him, he'd probably been scheming this ever since Saturday, Miles just can't let anything go, the prick. “Look…” I swallowed as I began, Mel looked up at me. “I-I shouldn't have… I mean, I… I just…” I don't even know what the hell I'm supposed to say, I mean, he knows I lead him on, he knows I'm sorry for it, he practically forgave me, now what?

 

He sighed and I just stopped talking. “I ran out because I realized people saw us,” He explained. “I understood when you did it that it didn't mean anything, but I'd forgotten that there were people there… I wasn't mad or anything,” He shrugged.

 

“Why were you avoiding me then?” I asked, clenching my hands into nervous fists.

 

“I guess I thought you were mad at me for… what I said,” He looked down at his lap.

 

“What'd you say?” Miles chimed out. Oh that's right, Miles didn't know, he didn't know Mel had told me he loved me. God, I wish he hadn't told me he loved me. Two damn days we knew each other! I suppose the fact that he said he's had a crush on my since sixth grade has something to do with it, but still! Love?

 

“Nothing,” Mel squeaked. Miles shrugged and sat back, crossing his arms.

 

“So, we're all happy joy,” He smiled. “We should totally hook you up with some sexy boy,” He poked Mel.

 

“Oh no, I'm not ready to date anyone,” He stuttered. What the hell?

 

“Then why the hell did you want to date me?” I blurted, definitely a lot harsher than I could've, and probably should've been.

 

“I just…” Oh god, oh god, he's going to cry. No more crying please! “I've liked you for so long…” He hiccupped. “I-I didn't want to pass up the opportunity, I-I'm sorry, I have to go,” With that he got up and walked away. I wanted Miles to stop him, make him sit back down so I could say something. But he was gone, back to his lonely table before I even opened my mouth. As soon as he sat down I saw a spoon, dipped with applesauce hit his shirt, and heard someone yell, “fag.” I glared, scanning the people around me for whom it was who said such a thing, but I hadn't the slightest idea.

 

“Nice going,” Miles scoffed. “You're such a dick, so damn apathetic about everything,” Miles sounds mad, not like he did on Friday, not screaming mad, but disappointed `get out of my face' mad. “Did it ever occur to you that I care about you? I mean, damn it, you've had three friends within your entire lifetime, never had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, or anything,” He was lecturing me. I feel a need to ignore lectures, I just do. I crossed my arms and looked down in guilt, pretending I was listening, though, I think somewhere along the way a lot of it actually did sink in. “Whatever man, I don't know what the hell is wrong with you,” Miles tossed his second piece of pizza in front of me. “Eat, see-ya later,” He sighed, putting his hands in his pockets he walked off to Mel's table and sat across from him. They started talking.

 

Damn it, now I'm bored again, at least I have food.

 

-0-0-0-

 

Miles hasn't spoken to me since lunch, and Mel isn't in history class today. Oh, but I know who is, and he's looking quite sexy today, maybe I can have him over the desk and all my problems will be gone. He winks at me as he walks up to the front of my class, a smirk forming on his lips. I just glare at him and slouch, I'd like him better if he were submissive.

 

He does all his `good afternoon class' shit and then starts talking about the French Revolution and Napoleon, something about a jail being torn to pieces. I put my head down and I'm asleep by twenty minutes into the period. He's cute, but looks aren't everything, he's boring as hell when he teaches, today I don't feel like baring it.

 

I'm frolicking through a field of flowers with a happy kitten by my side, I'm naked for some reason and the birds are singing all around me. The kitten happily leaps into my arms and is suddenly transformed into a splash of freezing cold water. My eyes snap open and I look up immediately. Curtis is holding an empty plastic cup, and he's got this evil, wicked smile on his face, damn him. I could be snuggling a cuddly kitten in my dream but now I'm here in the real world, wet and cold. Damn him.

 

“Certainly there must be something about this class you find interesting enough to stay awake for,” He said, the suggestiveness in that statement is enough to make me gag. He's using this voice, it's like a sex voice, which normally annoys me to no end but the way he does it makes me melt. I hear giggling around me and I realize I'm staring, I blush and look away, biting my lip, I feel like Mel at this point.

 

“Mr. Murphy, do you know where Mr. Orchard is?” He asks. Oh yeah, that's right, use those formal names like you're something of an adult you whore. I nodded my head back and forth, truthfully I had no idea.

 

“I think I saw him in the nurse's office when I walked by last period,” A girl chimed out in the back. Curtis nodded at her and turned back to his lesson.

 

“See me after class, Fox,” He said. I scoffed, he already splashed me with water, humiliated me with his stupid sex voice, and now he expects me to stay after class? Wait… I have an excuse to see him after class, victory!

 

I'm generally happy for the rest of the period, I actually take notes.

 

-0-0-0-

 

After the bell rang, and everyone left, I stayed seated, tapping my fingers on the desk as I watched Mr. Curtis stride over to the door and shut it. Hmm, makes me curious as to why he would do that, planning something kinky?

 

“You left your coat at my house,” He said idly and opened the walk in closet that was across from the entrance to the room. He walked inside and for a moment I wondered what he would do if I'd followed him in there. It's dark, it's a decent size, and nobody's gonna find us in there. God, when did I become such a pervert?

 

Before I know it, he's come out with my hoody in his hand and the closet door is shut, I pout at it and the hoody hits me in the face. I scowled at him but he was already at his desk, digging through a drawer for who knows what. I suppose he expected me to leave now, which kind of disappointed me because he must know I like him. He's caught me checking him out at least twice already, at least, it seemed like he did. I suppose it's just his nature though, after all, he's a kiss-ass schoolteacher, probably never done anything wrong in his life, anything against the law, anyway. He and I getting involved in any sort of sexual relationship would be against the law, but who the hell is going to find out? Maybe he needs a push, he must be somewhat interested, he kissed me, he said he was starting to like me. Perhaps more shy than he's making himself out to be, I should do something.

 

He went over to the file cabinet that was parallel to the desk, leaving the desk drawer open. With little hesitation I got up from my seat, snuck up to the inside of the desk and hopped up on it, sitting on his grade book with my legs hanging down in front of the drawer. I started getting a little nervous, he was still digging through the file cabinet and obviously didn't know I was there. But, now that I'm sitting on his desk, I start to think, what if he gives me a detention for it? What if he gets mad when he sees me and sends me to the office? I'd almost completely forgotten the fact that he's a teacher. Before I can turn back on my advances, he turns around, and notices me sitting there, I want to do something suggestive, smirk, wave, anything. But all I do is bite my lip and stare when his eyes meet mine. He just stares back at me a moment, letting out a long breath before looking down at the drawer he'd been digging through, my legs were covering it.

 

“Fox…” I think I saw him swallow. “Don't do that,” He kept his eyes on the floor and ran a hand through his hair. Had I done something? I mean, I sat on his desk, but it looks to me like he's had some sort of reaction to it, I'm suddenly more confident with myself.

 

“Do what?” I shoot him a look of innocence but I couldn't help but smirk behind it.

 

“Uh,” He forced a smile and rubbed the back of his neck. I made a note that he's a very easy eye to catch. “Shit,” He said under his breath.

 

“What's that?” I grinned. “Did Mr. `watch your mouth' just say a naughty word?” I reached out at poked him in the shoulder teasingly.

 

“I have to go, Fox,” He straightened his glasses. “And you have to go to class,” He picked up a cell phone and started to walk away. My arm shot out and had him by the shoulder before I even realized I'd moved. His face was really close to mine, intimate close, this should be some sort of a victory, but I froze up. I just sit there, hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to make a move, why the hell isn't he making a move? He did last time!

Only a moment later he made a move, but it wasn't the one I'd been waiting on. He just sighed and pulled back before trudging out of the classroom, practically slamming the door behind him. I cursed and hopped off his desk, knowing for certain that I would be late to Math. Mr. Mann doesn't have a history of cutting slack.

 

-0-0-0-

 

-Third Person-

 

Hands tapped on the steering wheel to the beat of the song on the radio as he waited. Tom had told him over the phone that he only had to make a quick trip to the bathroom before he'd be out, but it had been ten minutes and counting since the call. Brady started getting impatient, eyes moving from the door to the clock, and then back to the door. They only had forty minutes, so said Tom, and they were only going out to get something to eat, but being who he was Brady wanted a little bit more, and he would need enough time to even suggest something like that.

 

“Sorry,” Tom pulled the car door open and Brady gave him a welcoming smile. “I was in the bathroom,” Tom fell into the passenger seat and then slammed the car door shut, running a semi-wet hand through his hair.

 

“For ten minutes?” Brady chuckled. “What are you, constipated?” He grinned humorously, nudging Tom with his elbow and starting the car. Tom rolled his eyes and put his seat belt on. “But seriously, if you needed to jack off I could have helped you there,” Brady winked. Tom scowled at him immediately, cheeks turning a light but noticeable shade of red.

 

“I was kidding,” Brady laughed. Then he turned and got a good look at the expression on Tom's face. “Oh my god, you really were jacking off in there weren't you!” He grinned, poking Tom's shoulder. Tom nodded as if it were no big deal, knowing even so that Brady would make it one. “Oh, I be it was my sexy voice on the phone!” Brady continued “Or… has naughty Tommy been looking at porn again?”

 

“Don't call me that, and maybe I just felt like masturbating,” Tom insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and keeping his eyes focused on what was outside his window.

 

“Yeah right, I bet mechanical pencils make you horny,” Honestly, if Brady hadn't been driving at thirty-five miles an hour, Tom would have shot him by now. “That's okay, I get off on bagels… with raisins… Mmm,” Brady snorted with laughter.

 

“Brady!” Tom interrupted. “Shut up already!” He scowled, giving his friend in the driver's seat a threatening glare. Brady calmed down, but put a hand near his mouth to hide a smile as best he could.

 

The ride was silent for the next seven minutes, but once Brady was over his masturbation jokes, he decided it was time to pop the question.

 

“So, did you woo the little boy into bending over your desk yet?” He asked.

 

“No, I didn't, for one thing, I'd be the one bending over the desk, mind you, and I don't think it's such a good idea anymore,” Tom shrugged. “I've thought about it today and I think I should leave it alone, he's not really the first…” His voice trailed off.

 

“The first? What, not the first student? Jesus, what have you been up to boy?” Brady teased.

 

“No, but I didn't know this one was going to be one of my students, it was in the summer, we weren't dating but we met up a lot. It just started getting really tough with the whole underage thing, and then when I found out he was a student and we decided to pretend it never happened… I dunno, I got sort of attached,” Tom sighed.

 

“That's your problem, Tom, you get too attached to everything,” Brady replied. “Hell, you're still madly in love with someone who practically flushed your entire life down the toilet,”

 

“Exactly, and if that happens again, fuck, I don't even want to know,” He rested his head on his hands. “On top of that, if I get involved with anyone who turns out to be someone who's not into what I do, it'd just get all messed up. I'm leaving here in three weeks, it's not like I could take anyone with me without telling them what the hell was going on,”

 

“None of this changes the fact that you can just fuck the kid once, don't give yourself any time to get attached, you know?” Brady shrugged.

 

“I sort of like him,” Tom replied, almost shamefully. Brady rolled his eyes and shut his mouth, Tom could be an emotionless bastard, but he could also be such a girl.

 

There were only ten minutes left before Tom had to teach his next class by the time the two got done eating and arrived back at the school. It was a shame, Brady had been hot for some back seat sex, but Tom didn't seem to have any interest in such things at the moment.

 

“No way I can come in with you, is there?” Brady asked once Tom had gotten out of the car.

 

“Not unless you dress up like Napoleon and try to describe his battle tactics and shit,” Tom grinned.

 

“I'll pass,” With that Brady started the car. Tom shut the door and headed for the entrance to the school, waving to his friend before walking through the school doors.

 

-0-0-0-

-First Person-

 

It's times like these I realize that I have a very small amount of friends. I mean, really, let's count, there's Miles… Terry, Mel… only Mel is probably sick of me… and I haven't talked to Terry in a week, Dwayne is out of the question. And of course there's people I talk to at school now and then that I'm rather fond of but they don't count, especially since half of them now flee at the site of me because I have a horrible contagious disease, in other words, because I'm gay. So, putting it all together, I have a total of one friend; Miles, go me! Really, it wasn't until I was kicked out of my own home that I actually began to care about how many people give a shit about me. And when you all of the sudden realize you're a huge fucking loser, it feels like shit, I never saw myself as anything of a loser until now. Maybe it's why I got along so well with Mel.

 

Anyway, yes, my parents kicked me out of the house, my dad did actually, and my mother had no problem with it. I think it was the first thing I've ever seen the two of them agree on.

 

Apparently, the idiot assistant principal, who is, if I haven't mentioned, and idiot, decided to call my parents and talk about how the staff was `concerned' about my well being among other students now that my cover is blown. In doing so, she also let it be known to them that I am a fag, and said something along the lines of it being hard to accept, even among the staff. Well, to that, all I could think was my history teacher is a fag too, bitch. But that really doesn't solve anything.

 

So, when I came home that day walked into the house, my dad practically jumped on me with the subject, at first I tried denying it, but that didn't really work. So eventually I admitted to it and then found myself tripping down the porch stairs and barely avoiding hitting my head on the pavement as I fell on my back.

 

“Your kind isn't welcome here, you little shit!” Dad yelled. And then the door slammed shut. I grunted as I pushed myself up to my feet, flicking off the house even though I knew there was no one there to see it. It actually wasn't the first time I'd been thrown out of my house in the same manner, but this is the first time I had a mind to not go back.

 

So far, this has to be the absolute worst day of my life. Woe is me.

 

Coming back to the present, I'm now only a few blocks away from my house, thinking about where the hell I'm supposed to go. I'm sub-consciously heading in the direction of Miles' house, but I'm not so sure about that choice. He still hadn't spoken to me since lunch, and he completely ignored me in math class. Still, I had nowhere else to go for Christ's sake, he had to let me in.

 

I practically stomp down the middle of the street on my way there, scowling at the ground and grunting with every step, mumbling little rants to myself. I am pissed off, and the last thing I need is a cop car to sneak up behind me and honk at me because I happen to be in the middle of the lane. Unfortunately, that is exactly what I got, and he can't just drive off after I move either, he has to pull over and start lecturing me about safety.

 

“You know, I could have been a drunk driver, or not paying attention and could have run you right over,” He said, after his window rolled down.

 

“And I could have been a psychotic cop killer, and shot you in the face,” I mumbled mockingly. It wasn't until after the words had left my mouth that I felt regret for saying them, I believe he could arrest me for saying something like that. Surprisingly he seemed to have chosen to ignore it.

 

“Where are you headed?” He asked. I sped my walking pace but it was no use of course, he just kept driving along side me like a pedophile trying to pick up his next victim.

 

“Nowhere,” I scoffed, wishing there were some place I could turn off the road, like a woods or something, but on this particular street there was nothing but houses.

 

“Really?” He sounded amused, “Do you need a ride to nowhere?” I wasn't looking at him, but I could here him grin.

 

“No,” I spat.

 

“You sure?” He asked. Then, I thought about it, I suppose a ride wouldn't be so bad, Miles' house isn't exactly close, and the faster I get there the faster I get to spill all my misery to someone.

 

“Fine,” I grumbled and stopped walking. I went around the back of the car and got in the passenger side, plopping in the seat and slamming it shut. I had to glare at him when I finally looked at him, he was wearing one of those stupid dark blue uniforms you see in movies, and his shirt was tucked into his pants, which is unappealing in itself.

 

“So, what's you're name?” He said once he started the car. I was beginning to question his friendliness, perhaps he's actually a psychotic rapist and killed the real own of the car and stole his clothes. I think I heard about that happening in the news once.

 

“Fox,” I grunted. “Murphy,”

 

“Officer Fritz,” He removed once hand from the steering wheel and stuck it out for me to shake. I wanted to comment on the irresponsibleness of that action as a cop, but instead I shook his hand. “At your service,” He smiled. “So where are we headed?” He asked in this casual way that pissed me off.

 

“Oakland Drive, if you know where that is, 1916,” I replied.

 

“I just drove in from Ohio, actually, so you'll have to give me directions,” he said. I sighed and told him to head toward the main road and that I'd tell him where to turn off. Really, he could've considered the fact that he didn't know where anything was before he offered to give me a ride.

 

“You go to the High School?” I nodded. “Cool, what's your favorite subject?”

 

“Math,” I lied, I hate math with a passion but I feel a need to humor him, as I find absolutely no school subject at all enjoyable.

 

“Oh really, why's that?” He asked.

 

“Because numbers get me off,” I gritted my teeth. He laughed loudly and I slouched, glaring at nothing in particular, I really wasn't trying to be funny.

 

“Where do you live?” He asked. “Assuming we're not headed to your house?” I rolled my eyes, looking away so he didn't see, why should it matter to him where I live if he doesn't even know any of the streets?

 

“Nowhere,” I spat.

 

“Really? So everywhere's just nowhere for you is it?” I think he was starting to get the fact that I wasn't going to talk friendly with him, his tone had lost it's cheerfulness.

 

“No, my parents kicked me out,” I said bluntly.

 

“Oh,” He shrugged his shoulders, not even making-believe that he gave a shit. “Sorry I can't help you with that, I'm sort of busy with something else,” He began. “Besides, this really is way out of my department's jurisdiction, I'm here on special orders so I'm not much help with stuff like that,”

 

“Thanks,” I drawled sarcastically, he paid no attention to it.

 

“Speaking of which,” He was pulling something out of his pocket while driving, and I was afraid he was going to crash into something with the way he was hardly paying attention to the road. So much for a fucking cop, I look and he's not even wearing a seat belt, I'd love to report him for it. I look down at my lap and realize I'm not wearing mine either.

 

“This guy we're looking for went poof about a year ago, we think he might be here,” He started unfolding the piece of paper he'd taken from his pocket. Thank god he did it with one hand, taking both hands off the steering wheel is where I draw the line.

 

“Just in case, if you've seen him,” He held the picture up for me to see. I sighed in annoyance and turned to look at it, expecting a big fat bald guy with a cigarette in his mouth. However this is not what I saw at all, the picture was in black and white, but I recognized the man immediately, Tom. A younger version, obviously, but it was him, same hair, glasses and everything, what the hell do I say?

 

“Uh, no,” I gulped, nodding my head back and forth quickly. “I don't recognize him,” My attempt to be unsuspicious was a complete failure, as I stuttered out just about every word. Luckily, he didn't really question it.

 

“Hm,” He said. “We have reason to believe he's working as a teacher at the local High School, that's where you go, correct?” He asked, and the tone in which he did so gave me a chill. I don't know why I was defending Tom, I'd probably get in huge trouble, but I don't know what he did or what they'd do to him, I couldn't just give him up. “We haven't had a chance to catch him during the school day, but if he is there we're sure we will tomorrow,” He said. I heard the saliva squeeze down my throat when I gulped. “We can't find an address,” He added idly. Well that was good news, if I could somehow get to Tom before tomorrow, maybe I could warn him. Or confront him and make sure he's not a psychotic cannibalistic rapist or something, and then, warn him.

 

Looking up from my lap, I realized that we were near Oakland, perfect time to change the subject.

 

“The streets right up here, next on the right,” I pointed. He nodded and turned onto it once close enough. I pointed out Miles' house and he pulled up in front of it to let me out. I looked in the driveway and saw that both cars were there, good, I don't know what I'd do if they weren't home.

 

“Hey kid,” He said when I was already half way out of the car, I turned back to him a moment. “If you see him, gimme a call,” He handed me a card with his phone number on it. Since when do cops have cards? I shoved it in my pocket and got out of the car quickly with a short nod. He waved as he drove away and I waved back, just to keep the suspicion down. Once the squad car was out of site, I rushed up the porch steps and banged on the front door.

 

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