I sat in melody diner on one of the cracked red seats, the sky outside a soft glowing white, twirling the striped blue straw in my strawberry milkshake around my finger. I was waiting for Austin. It was Saturday, and Austin had promised to meet me here because I hadn't slept over. I had to find some way to make him interested in Aubrey. Just picturing her thick, long blonde hair and big blue eyes made my face scrunch up in disgust. I stopped myself; I shouldn't be mean to her. Two wrongs don't make a right. She probably had a really bad life to make her this way, I repeated to myself, shutting my eyes. The diner was empty, as there was some march going on. I had promised to watch the store. My payment: a milkshake and feeling good for doing something good. I heard someone slide into the seat in front of me.
"Austin! Finally, you're here!" I slowly opened my eyes and inhaled sharply. Dallas. My hands immediately went up to my neck, tracing the kisses that seemed to still be singed there, making me feel as if I wanted to vomit.
"Hello, Ally."
"Dallas, please get away from me. This is a public place. You can't try anything and Austin's almost here." I said, my voice trembling like the wine colored leaves outside.
"C'mon Ally. I was just kissing you. That's what parties are for. What did you think I'd do when you wore that tiny little black dress? Not want to kiss my date? You said no but you and I both know you meant yes. You deserved it, after looking at Austin so obviously when you were with me. You should say sorry to me for digging your nails into my eyes. You could have blinded me."
I stared in awe at him.
"Are you kidding me right now?" I said, my voice subdued to a whisper, clenching my fists, my nails digging into my skin to form little purple crescents. Dallas continued as if he hadn't heard me.
"Let me tell you a little story. A boy was walking home from school one day and heard a girl talking to someone on her porch swing. A blonde boy, to be exact. Telling him something she shouldn't have been. Something about the boy walking past them. The boy had warned her that something bad would happen to her if she told. But she still did, almost like she wanted him to punish her. Do you like making people angry Ally? Do you like it?" His clammy hand was placed on my knee. The diner was empty, the dim streets outside still.
"If you scream or do anything, I'll make your punishment worse. I'll find you. Always. You just have to wait and see what it is."
"Dallas, get your hands off of me. Now. I will tell the police." His hand withdrew from beneath her knee, his bronze eyes hardening.
"And who do you think they'll believe? The daughter of the penny scraping musician or the son of the richest man in town? My father has quite a few connections, Ally. Quite a few."
"Is that true?" I said, my heart pumping wildly as I slid off my orange heels quietly.
"Yes. Money can get you a lot." That's when I sprinted, my bare feet slapping the chilled floor. My fingers grasped the door handle.
"Help! Help! Help!" I repeated, running down the empty, silent streets, the white sky surging above me, almost as if it would sink low enough to crush me. Muscled arms wrapped around my waist.
"Lets get back to the diner, shall we?" Dallas muttered lowly in my ear, the smell of coffee and body odor invading my nostrils. I punched him and kicked him and bit his fingers and kneed him in the crotch but he was too strong, pulling me back to the diner. I screamed and screamed until my voice was hoarse. He pushed me up against the wall roughly, running his greasy fingers under my shirt, his usually glossy dark hair damp and frizzy from sweat. He began kissing me, slipping his tongue into my mouth as I tried to scream. I bit his tongue, salty blood filling my mouth and smearing my white teeth red. He drew his tan, callused hand back to slap me. I flinched, my body awaiting the impact. That was when I heard the door jingle open. Someone sprinted so fast over to Dallas, ripping him off of me that there figure was blurred. I saw a smudge of dark blonde hair. Austin. He was holding Dallas up on the wall by his t-shirt, hissing something in his ear. He began punching him in the stomach, every blow making a sickening crunching sound. I slammed my eyes shut, wheezing in thick air. I slowly opened my eyes. I knew I couldn't stop Austin and my limbs felt feeble. I slid down to the ground, trying to block out the sickening grunts of Dallas as he tried to swing his arms back at Austin. I couldn't focus on that. Instead I focused on a fly in the soupy Miami air. It flew close to me, so close that I could see the green and purple veins in the sticky paper of its wings pulsing slightly and feel the minute billows of air from the flapping of its tiny wings. I wouldn't let this fly die, wouldn't let anyone squish it, wouldn't allow myself to see the white insides whisked together with the black flesh. If I wouldn't see this fly die, I wouldn't see Dallas die. I didn't want to stand at a funeral, and go see Austin in an orange jump suit every day. I stood up, and wrapped my arms around Austin's muscled back.
"Stop." He didn't listen. More punches. There was only one thing I could do that would shock him out of his fury. I began kissing his neck.