April 1998

9th grade

Trechial burst through the front door and dropped her Jansport in the foyer. The phone was on its second ring by her count. She dashed down the hall, her sneakers making screeching sounds on her mom's polished hardwood when she took a hard right into the Huan just as the automatic voice on the answering machine picked up and Mrs. Dale's strict voice radiated through the speaker.

Mrs. Dale explained the details of the detention Trechial had on Monday. She pressed the stop button several times on the white voice box, sighing when her principal's voice disappeared. She and Leandro decided to skip the fifth period and go to the library for their daily rendezvous that started a little over a week ago, but Mrs. Cooper caught them and turned them into Mrs. Dale.

Charlie walked up to her, reeking of the day's alcohol choice. "Getting into trouble at school with that troublemaker across the street again?"

Dang-it, where did he come from?

His busted truck wasn't in the driveway, and the front door was locked. Her thoughts ran unchecked––if her mom found out about the detention, she would be a dead girl. There were three things her mom made very clear at the beginning of the school year that would end her very existence: skipping class, talking back to her teachers, and fighting. Trechial shuddered.

It was illogical to think Charlie would keep this a secret, so her only means of ridding herself of the problem was to get rid of the evidence. Then it would be her word against Charlie's, and since he was already plastered, there was a good chance her mom may believe her this time.

She hit the delete all button and cleared the principal's name.

Charlie peered over her shoulder at the machine, thick breaths permeated through her scalp. His brutish body pressed her into the counter. Small hairs lifted off the back of her neck while sheer panic zipped through her heart. It would be a bold lie to say she didn't fear this man. The nefarious look in his gray eyes or the permanent stony countenance on his face reminded her of a demon in human flesh.

He looked at her as if he wanted to devour her whole.

But she'd rather die by his hands than her mother's.

She took a deep breath and snatched the answering machine, holding it close to her chest.

Trechial attempted to slide past him, yanking at the cords to come out the wall so she could make her great escape. With one hard tug, they popped out, and she pivoted on one foot, but he blocked her and pushed her back against the counter.

He grasped at the answering machine but instead seized a handful of the top of her bra and breast through her shirt.

"Give me that." His gaze went to his hand then lifted to hers.

She swallowed hard, her eyes bulging in fear as she jerked away from him. "Leave me alone," she shouted. "This has nothing to do with you."

"This has everything to do with me. You're mine, girl!"

The overpowering smell of menthol and alcohol made her gag. He snatched the machine out of her arms and threw it on the floor, a white piece of plastic breaking and skidding under the countertop.

She swung at him, but he caught her by the wrist and, stretching her arm high up above her head, pressed his hard groin into her leg. He curved his tongue around his upper lip, looking down at her mouth.

The day's lunch inched up Trechial's stomach and through her chest, lodging there for a moment. Her waterlogged brain told her to give up, resist fighting back, and her spine stiffened as her back molded into the countertop. She snapped her neck to the side and squeezed her eyes shut, holding her breath, her body quivering something awful. Charlie's noisy breathing drew closer and closer.

Then a flash of light blazed through her eyelids, followed by a retracting noise that caught her attention. She slowly peered at the entrance. Her eyes grew to her hairline, tears wailing up in her gaze.

Trechial released a shaky breath through her nose; Devin stood motionless, holding a disposable Polaroid to one eye. His face darkened into voidness. Trechial never witnessed that look before in his eyes, but it was reckless in nature. It was more than anger or rage. His posture was tense, and apples and oranges spilled from a plastic beige grocery bag next to his feet. His finger slowly curled into a fist.

No, no, no!

"You son of a bitch," Charlie hissed in a low, authoritative voice. His putrid breath fought. Trechial's pores once again. He slung her arm down and stalked over to Devin, grabbing him by the collar and forcing him up on his toes. "Give me that camera boy before I––"

But her mom's voice rang out from down the hall. "Charlie, come get this watermelon!"

Charlie stared into Devin's unblinking eyes. "I can do unimaginable damage to you." He spared Trechial a glance his lips curving into a wicked smirk. "And her. Remember that."

He shoved Devin back a step, and Devin picked imaginary specks off his shirt before looking at him again, a flicker of a smirk appearing and disappearing.

Charlie showed not an ounce of fear, his demeanor collapsing back into the loving man her mom knew.

Devin slid the camera down in his pocket. "Your wife is calling you, scumbag."

"Charlie, now! This thing is heavy, and I have more bags to get," her mom shouted.

Devin jerked his head to the door. "Make yourself useful for once and go help your wife."

"I'm coming, dammit!" As he passed by Devin, he paused, his eyes shifting down to him. "Better watch your back, son."

Devin inclined his head. "Duly noted, sir. You should also watch yours."

Trechial's mouth dropped. She took Devin by the wrist and hauled him down the hallway. "Mom! Devin and I are going to my room!"

Her mom walked down the hall holding the watermelon that Charlie was supposed to bring in. "Leave the door open."

"Okay."

She released his hand once they entered the room. Sunlight filtered through cracks in the blinds, forming a lined pattern on the floor. Trechial whirled around to Devin, who stood by the edge of her canopy bed, taking in the new changes of her room.

He huffed out a snarky laugh. "You still have a crush on Tevin Cambell?"

She ignored his remark and shook off the cold chill that ran through her body. "Are you crazy? Talking to that cop like that?"

His shoulders lifted casually. "He's a shell of a cop, and anyways, is that how you speak to your savior?"

He rolled his eyes and folded his arms against his green uniform shirt.

She released a shaky breath, crossing the room in a split second, and flung her arms around his neck.

"I only have one Savior, and he made sure you got here right on time." She squeezed him tightly. Her body trembled nonstop; the feel of Charlie still lingered on her skin, creating goosebumps on her arms.

"I forgot my wallet at the store," her mom shouted from down the hall. "I'll be right back."
The door slammed, and a still quietness followed as the two waited to hear evidence that Charlie either left with her mom or stayed behind.

The fragrance of Devin's cologne and deodorant oddly made her tighten her grip. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, relishing the warmth emitting from him. He was a cozy safety blanket.

The line that she had drawn that night slowly fainted.

The manic look on Charlie's face flashed across her memory, and tears trickled down her cheeks, dampening his skin.

"He might walk in at any moment," Devin reminded her in a soft mummer, remaining motionless with his arms at his side.

Chills overtook her all over again. "I don't care."

Devin's arms encircled her waist in a firm embrace. "Then neither do I." He rested his chin on her shoulder, his heart beating as fast as hers. Maybe he was fearful of Charlie, too.

They remained in each other's arms for a few minutes before Devin said, "Trechial, tell Ms. Dee or I will."

She lamented with a heavy sigh. "Devin I've tried to talk to Momma about Charlie a few times, but he's always one step ahead with his lies. Momma thinks I make things up about him because of Dad and you."

"Should I tell her then?"

"No. Charlie has already gotten into her head about you, too. Haven't you noticed I haven't been over to your house in a while? The fact that you're allowed in my room shows that Momma was in a real rush."

"Sorry, I didn't get here earlier...before all this happened." He apologized in a dejected mumble.

"I owe you one." She spoke in a hushed voice.

He angled his head to look at her with a faint grin. "Nah, you owe me two." He allowed his hands to glide down her arms capturing her fingers with his.

"I'm happy you showed up." Tears slipped down her cheeks.

Devin wiped the moisture from beneath her eyes with his thumb, giving her a wry smile. "Me, too. If only there was film in the camera. I could have erased that asshole from existence."

Her eyes bucked. "No film?" She shook her ponytail in disbelief at the incredible bluff the dude pulled off. How could she have missed the fact that no picture was delivered from the slit in the camera?

"No, I took the last picture yesterday."

Trechial cut her eyes. "I bet you took the last picture of yourself," she grumbled.

He ruffled her hair into a massive mess. "No, I took it of you."

"What? Are you kidding me?" She swatted his shoulder. "Oh my gosh, how did my hair look?"
She released a distressing groan, shooting daggers into him. "If you took an ugly picture of me, jerk-wad, I'll end you."

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Then who's going to protect you from the big bad wolf out there?"

He sported a smug expression before taking a seat at the computer desk in the corner by her bed.

She sighed, hopping on the bed and plopping down onto the softness of her mattress. Angling her head to look at him, she simply watched him watch her in silence.

"What was all that about?" he asked, reclining against the chair.

"I got a detention for skipping fifth period, and Mrs. Dale called home." She sat up, bringing her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. "Charlie heard the voice message, and then there was a struggle."

"Huh."

She chewed on her bottom lip, hoping the questions would end with her half-witted answer, but by the way, Tae answered, she could tell he knew something. The way he drilled her for an honest answer without saying a single word made her wonder if she was safer with the grizzly out there.

His gaze narrowed into slits, and he tilted his head. "Why were you skipping? Does it have anything to do with the rumor swirling around about you and a certain person we know?"

A high-pitched cackle erupted from her. "Wha––what person?"

He stared at her, perplexed, his jaws flexed, the ball in his throat bobbing up and down. Her answer visibly upset him.

He pushed out the chair abruptly, knocking it on the floor then took quick steps toward the door. She rushed to block the door, stretching her arms out like a cross, and her face seemed to fall straight to the floor. It wasn't fair to him. She knew that. She knew dating Leandro would upset Devin, hence the reason she and Leandro decided to do it on the low.

"I––I, her eyes darted from side to side, a selfish search for a way out of the situation. "It just happened."

He snorted and pulled her by the arm to him, slamming the door. She swallowed hard, backing into the door again. "Do you know why I'm upset, Trechial?"

She raised her head to him, then dropped it in shame. "Because you saved me, and I'm dating Leandro."

"Spoken like a true idiot. Next to my mom, you're the only girl I wouldn't hesitate to die for."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the camera. He grabbed her hand, faced it palm up, and set the camera in it.

"Why is there a line drawn for me and not him?"

The question hit her like a fist knocking the soul out of her body.

He reached for the doorknob. "I'll go wait in the front until your mom gets here." He left without so much as glancing at her. It was the second time they parted like this, leaving a deep regret within her.

He saved her and she hurt him. Was this their fate?