Chapter One- David
A loud, short buzz and the whooshing of doors startled me as I stared down the solemn hall. After what seemed like forever, I was finally going to see my best friend, Jack Kelly. I was slightly worried, not even wanting to be there. But I had to. Well, not had to. It was obviously a choice, when you thought about it logically. But I wanted Jack to state his case. I wanted to forgive Jack for everything he did, all of the lies, all of the betrayal. I wanted to try.
Greenwall Prison wasn't a state penitentiary; it wasn't the big time. Still, it's not like Jack was in for petty theft or anything. Dang it, two weeks wasn't as long as I thought. Maybe it was too soon. Mom had already forbid me to go around with Jack; she said he was bad news. And I never believed her, not for an instant. Guess what they said was right: always listen to your mother. Don't get me wrong, I usually do. But Jack... Jack was different. He was my best friend, no matter what. And I had to give him a chance to explain himself. I may have still been angry with him, but I had to be fair. It was terrible getting out of the house; Mom was still suspicious, tailing my every movement in and out of the house. Even went to so far as to buy me a cell phone so she could keep tabs on me. That's saying a lot since we don't make much money. Dad still doesn't say a lot to me. Guess that's what I get for befriending a felon.
A prison guard led me to a stale, cold room where prisoners could receive visitors. A few were already there, dressed in ridiculous orange jumpsuits, talking to whimpering girlfriends who were too young to be hanging around a prison. I sat in the wooden chair in front of an empty table. The tabletop was cold, gray formica and made me shiver when I rested my arms on it. They led him out in handcuffs. It was hard to believe. My best friend, in a prison with handcuffs locked around his wrists. The light brown hair he always kept so tidy was too long for him and flopped in his eyes. His face looked sallow but angry, and when he saw me, he winced. Jack winced? It was all too surreal; this had to be a dream.
It wasn't, obviously.
They took the cuffs off of him, and he plopped down in the seat across from me. His expression had been hardened, and he almost seemed angry. He didn't deserve to be angry. I was the one who was fooled. I should feel mad, white-hot anger searing across my forehead. But I wasn't. I sat tall and calm, waiting for him to apologize. Or talk. Or do something. Jack just sat there, silent, for quite a few minutes. Finally, he spoke.
"Hey, Dave," he mumbled, his voice rumbling and dry, like gravel. "You see the news?" I nodded. Everyone had heard the news.
"So how's the new guy, then?" I asked. Shrugging, he cleared his throat.
"Dunno. They got him in max security, man. Heard he flips out all the time. Just totally spazes on everyone. Nobody can control him. Surprised he didn't go to state." The state penitentiary. That's where the murder suspect would go when he was convicted, I bet. I didn't know the guy, but he was around my age. Well, four years older than me, but in the same generation. Hearing about that made my mother even more nervous about letting me out of the house. It was crazy. I wondered if Jack knew who he was. I mean, I didn't really know anything about him anymore, now did I? Jack saw the look on my face. He averted his eyes, thinking, I suppose, of a different topic.
"So, uh... catch any fireflies lately?" He asked tentatively. I cracked a smile. It was one of our inside jokes, the first one. It reminded me of the day we first met.
"Nah," I replied. "But I wish I had."
---
A good friend of mine, Kaitlin, called me up one day. "Do you wanna go catch a movie? I met this new boy, and he's really nice. I wanted to do something with him." I raised an eyebrow, knowing she couldn't see it through the phone.
"If you met a new guy, and you're taking him to the movies, why do you want me tagging along?" She laughed. I could hear her smile through the phone. Her light blue eyes always smiled along with her.
"Besides, I thought you were working on a new story. You seemed so excited about it yesterday."
"The story can wait. And I don't like him like that; he's just a friend. I met him at-"
"Oh wait! Let me guess!" I broke in. "The candy store, right? Is he the leader of the pack?" I sang the last four words in a terrible, sugar-coated, high-pitched voice.
"Shut up! No! I met him at the barn. Janelle told me about him. He's a new stable hand. Comes from New York, she says." Kaitlin always loved horses. That and writing.
"So how old is this guy?" I asked, still convinced that she had a new romantic interest. We'd been down this road before; she was always falling for guys who were too old for her. Not to mention they never seemed right. She had what some called a "good Christian heart", and she was always befriending the weirdest of people. Normally she was shy around people she barely knew, but some just seemed to charm the quiet right out of her. I wasn't one of those people. It took nearly a year for us to really become friends.
"Nineteen," she mumbled quickly.
"Firefly! He's three years older than you!" I exclaimed. Sometimes she didn't have the best sense. Her nickname had been "Firefly" ever since she was tiny. I never had a nickname besides "Davey" or "Dave", the former being a name that I despised deeply. I rarely called her by that name, but her family always affectionately referred to her as "Firefly".
"So what? Are you trying to get out of it? 'Cause I can go by myself," she offered. I rolled my eyes and started pacing around the kitchen. She would go alone, too. And you never knew about the kind of guys she would take under her wing. One time she "made friends" with a guy literally two minutes before he robbed her blind. It's not that Kaitlin was all that naïve; it was just that with some people she couldn't see the possibility of being mean. Or hurtful. Or criminals. My sister, Sarah, appeared in the doorway, tapping her foot.
"I need to use the phone, David," she called to me, loud enough so that Kaitlin could hear through the phone. I nodded and turned my back to her.
"You're changing the subject. Anyway, I'll go. What time?"
---
The movie sucked. But the walk home was the greatest. We walked through the park, talking. Jack didn't seem like a bad guy; in fact, he was pretty nice. He and I connected at once. I don't know what it was, but at any rate, all three of us were having a great time.
"So you like horses, too?" I asked him. "Kaitlin said you two met at the barn." Jack gave a half-shrug. Already, I knew his type. The "I'm smarter and cooler than you, so I'm gonna be as laid back as possible, making you do all the work" type. At any rate, he was still a nice guy.
"Yeah, they're cool," he replied. We were all silent for a few moments, and Jack seemed to be thinking about something important. I was proven wrong, but it was fun anyway. He turned to me, grinning over Kaitlin's head.
"You like chasing fireflies?" He asked pointedly, nodding his head at Kaitlin. She must have told him the nickname. I smiled.
"Yeah, I love chasing fireflies. I especially love... tickling them!" I cried, reaching down for Kaitlin's stomach, her most vulnerable spot. She shrieked and ran away as we chased after her, laughing.
Not the greatest story, I know. But it was fun at the time. Jack and I have been best friends ever since, and it's a year later. Kaitlin recounts that story all the time, taking credit for our "best friend-ship", as she calls it.
---
"Dave?" Jack asked sharply. He must have asked me a question. I snapped out of my memories.
"Yeah?" I replied. His brows furrowed.
"I asked if you'd seen London around lately." London was Jack's girlfriend. We called her "Riley" every now and then. It was another one of those silly nicknames. She, too, had been fooled and hurt by Jack. He never saw the consequences until now. Any warmth I felt towards Jack a minute ago evaporated.
"No," I said shortly. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, defeated.
"What do you want from me, Dave?" He asked, exasperated. I stared at him.
"If you don't know, then I have no business being here." Yep, he just blew me off. Didn't even care whether I forgave him or not. He didn't care about anyone but him. I stood up. He banged his fist down on the table.
"Listen, I'm sorry, okay, Dave? I'm sorry! But you don't understand! You don't understand what happened! You don't know what's really going on!" He yelled. The guards started to move towards our table. I glared at him.
"Well, maybe if you would have told me what was going on, I could understand!" I said, not matching his volume, but the meaning was all the same. He lowered his eyes to the ground.
"You know what? I couldn't make you understand. 'Cause I don't understand, myself," he said quietly. The guards had reached our area by now, and they threw him back into his handcuffs and led him away. I was left just standing there, watching him leave.
---
Of course I saw London. Are you kidding me? She's one of the first people I went to after I watched them haul him into that car. Yeah, I was there when he was arrested. It was a mighty shocker for me, too. But it was especially bad for London.
Jack Kelly and London Gray had been going together for a little over five months. She's a great girl, very nice and funny and outgoing. The day after Jack was arrested, I went over to London's house. She opened the door to me, and although we weren't great friends, she wrapped me into a hug when she saw me, visibly upset. I felt really bad for her because she really did care about Jack.
"Riley, I..." She shushed me.
"Don't even say anything. He fooled you, too," she said, playing with her deep brown hair. She had the brightest blue eyes that made her look like she was always happy. I looked at her as she moved aside to let me in.
"How are you holding up?" I asked softly. I could see the anger and pain in her eyes. She lowered her head a little and sighed.
"I just hate what he did. I hate it. I mean, it's not like we were together long, but... it still feels like it was really just me he betrayed. I know it's selfish; I mean, he hurt you, too. I just can't help it."
"Hey, don't worry about it. It's fine to feel this way." Shaking her head, she folded her arms across her chest.
"So, you find out who he really is?" She asked. I was surprised, but then I remembered that his one phone call went to my cell phone, not hers.
"Not really. Told me his real name was 'Francis Sullivan', but I don't believe it." She smiled faintly.
"'Francis' suits him," she commented quietly. It was rare that she was so quiet. I was used to London being a rather outspoken person. "I know what you mean; it's hard to believe anything he says now."
I paused before asking, "Do you think you're gonna forgive him?" Anger flared in her eyes.
"I don't know. He's done such idiotic things. Beyond idiotic to just downright mean. I don't even know who he is anymore. I guess I never did." I pondered this and slowly nodded.
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A/N: Alright, so what do y'all think? :-)