You're the Only One [Max Green] That Died 03
Chapter 3
A few uneventful days soared by Amy's reality since the previous encounter with the "psychos." She and Sara had mostly hung out at her cluttered condominium, with the exception of school of course. Lately, Amy had been receiving a ridiculous amount of homework, and she found it acceptable, since the end of the year exams were soon approaching.
Sara on the other hand, did not take a liking to this homework as Amy did, and she would constantly remind Amy of her thoughts on how unfair academic achievement was.
"Honestly, how relevant are mathematic parabolas for our future life?" Sara moaned one afternoon at Amy's stuffy apartment.
Amy shook her head hopelessly at her friend. "You need to broaden your mind more, Sar. Parabolas can be used for lots of things."
Sara raised an eyebrow disbelievingly at her friend. "How so?"
Amy smiled slightly and began her response of knowledgeable intellect. "Well, a scientist who explores a mountain, for example. If they need to measure the feet above sea level, they could easily substitute a parabola equation, and distinguish the answer."
Sara rolled her eyes and threw her book lazily on the floor. "You're too smart for your own good."
Amy smiled; though she knew those words weren't close to being compliments. "Blame genetics."
Sara shot her a crooked grin. "True say. I wish my parents were psychology professors."
The side of Amy's lips pulled up in a curve. "No, you really don't. They were always too busy with their marking and such to spend any good length of time with me."
Sara gave her a sympathetic look. "Yeah, I remember. In middle school, when it'd be Parent's Day, your parents would always be absent. A shame too, I would have loved to learn how their job works."
Amy snorted and raised an eyebrow at her. "Seriously? You'd actually want to hear that?"
Sara frowned in defense while flipping a page in her Math textbook. "Yes, I'm not that mentally impaired, you know."
"Could've fooled me."
Amy soon felt the hardness of Sara's Math book collide with the left side of her skull. "Ow!"
Sara smiled innocently and shrugged while looking at her nail beds. "You asked for it, sweetheart."
Amy glared at her but soon broke out in a grin. "I can't deny that."
Sara laughed comically. "Now hand me my book back, thanks."
Amy mentally shook her head and tossed the book back—more forceful than necessary. Sara glared at her and snatched it back into her blue jeaned-lap. The two of them continued studying for their upcoming factoring test, though Amy would occasionally catch Sara drifting off blankly into space or playing with her chipped nails. After a few more minutes of watching Sara act zombie-like, Amy slammed her book shut.
"Okay, what's wrong?"
Sara opened her mouth to reply, but Amy beat her to it. "And don't say 'nothing', because you and I both know that's bull."
Sara sighed as she closed her book and rotated her body to face Amy's on the living room floor. "It's Ronnie."
Amy's stomach clenched at the forbidden name. "Ronnie? But, you haven't seen him in days."
Sara grunted. "Exactly! It's like he's been wiped off the face of the Earth or something."
Amy looked at her friend sternly. "Come on, you're overreacting Sar."
Sara shot her a look. "Am not. He hasn't called me or anything! And he specifically said he'd talk to me later. Well, later has passed!"
Amy smiled amusingly at her friend's torment. "You realize you sound like a love-crazed teenager, right?"
Sara looked at her through slit eyes. "That's because I am one! All because you've never been-
Sara cut her sentence short as she saw the pain flicker across Amy's pale face.
Amy looked down at her fingers. It was true; her friend's accusations weren't false. Never had a guy sparked interest in Amy's bland life. Sure, some were considered attractive in her eyes, but that was never enough to nudge her. Not close. They were either too...dull in the mental area, or they displayed a sense of arrogance, both in which Amy detested. She was eighteen, and remained one of the only girls in her grade to have never attracted male affection. Though, she would survive. Her studies were her first priority after all.
"I'm sorry Amy…you know I didn't mean it," Sara said, reaching to squeeze Amy's shoulder as an apology.
Amy waved her hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it."
Sara's eyes deepened with pity. This was a look Amy either felt gratitude towards, or awkwardness.
"It's just he makes me feel so…..I don't even know. I must sound stupid right about now." Sara said, playing with her fingers.
Amy offered her a tiny smile. "Yeah, you do. But that's why I love you."
Sara snorted. "That was cheesy dude, and you know it."
Amy burst into fits of laughter. "Y-yeah."
The two friends both lay on their sides, clutching their ribs with short gasps of laughter. Their faces were identically a mild pink and tears of enjoyment swam down their cheeks. The girls were still suffering from laughter when the phone rang.
Like a grenade had exploded among their peaceful laughter, both girls stopped abruptly and sat up wearing symmetrical expressions of shock and skepticism. They looked at each other with a raised eyebrow; Sara's expression was excited, Amy's was grim.
Sara clapped her hands eagerly while leaping off of the floor, causing the Math book which was once on her lap to fall limply to the ground with a thud. Before the phone could shrilly ring for the fourth time, Amy watched with curiosity as Sara picked it up.
"Hello?" Sara said breathlessly. Without warning a huge smile broke out on her animated face. She shot a quick look of delight at Amy on the floor.
Amy knew by instant recognition that the person on the phone would be Ronnie. Though, her mind pondered how he came about her house number. Sara. Amy didn't doubt that Sara gave Ronnie her own house number, seeing as she often came here. Studying the gleeful look on her friend's face as she waved her hands about with life, Amy knew who was on the other end of the line, talking back in a raspy deep voice. A voice that sounded like it had consumed one too many cigarettes.
"Okay. Okay, awesome. Later!" Sara slammed the black phone down on the receiver with a beam.
"Who was that?" Amy asked with disinterest, having a gut feeling she already knew the answer to her own question.
Sara's glee soon mirrored innocence. "Just my mom, nothing new."
Amy raised a distrusting eyebrow at her friend. "Your mom?"
Amy watched as Sara plumped herself down on the hardwood floor of her living room. "Yeah. Why?"
Amy shrugged with sarcasm. "Oh I don't know. You just seemed a little…excited."
Sara nodded promptly and her eyes were covered with calmness. "I know. She just finished telling me how she found me a memory card worth 60 gigs! 60! That's rare to find you know."
Amy shook her head at her friend with extensive eyes and let out a chuff of hesitant breath.
"Are you going to tell me, or will I be forced to yank it out of you?"
Sara's lips broke apart, causing her white incisors to show fully. "Fine….it was Ronnie."
Even though Amy had known the answer that was to come, she couldn't help but feel disappointed at her friend's words. For a small period of time, Amy had somewhat believed that the boys of Escape the Fate would be a mere memory again. Her belief however, was now banished.
Amy looked down at her Factoring text book, studying its numerous equations. "I see."
Amy heard her friend sigh in defeat. "Come on dude! He's really not that bad. You don't him well."
That caused Amy to shoot her stare from the text book to Sara. "And you do?"
Sara's crystal eyes were now covered with frustration and fury. "As a matter of fact, I do!"
Amy stared at her friend hard, her face burning with irritancy. She leapt off the floor, her feet seemed glued to the hardwood and her hands were clenched by her hips. "You've known the guy for three days! Three days! That's not love!"
At this retort, Sara copied Amy's posture as she bounded off of the floor. "You wouldn't know what love was if it hit you in the face!"
Amy's mouth gaped open in hurt and splitting silence. At her friend's piercing words, she felt no evidence of a comeback. Her central nervous system had run dry.
"A-Amy, I didn't---
Amy shook her head as she went to grab her house keys from the kitchen counter. She proceeded to the coat hanger and grabbed her red spring jacket. Before she opened the front door to her own apartment, she turned to her confused friend.
"You know what, I don't care anymore. If you want to hang out with Ronnie, that's your choice. Just don't expect me to sit around and watch. I'm going for a walk."
With that Amy turned the golden knob, and before her friend could reply, she stepped out and slammed the door. She was soon met with the sight of her bland apartment hallway. Numerous of green apartment doors stood side by side, supported by a nauseating tanned carpet. Unfortunately, the walls held the same colour as the floor.
As Amy walked slowly down the darkened hallways, she couldn't help put ponder the previous argument her and Sara had shared.
You wouldn't know what love was if it hit you in the face.
Those simple yet stinging words kept repeating themselves into her mind. No matter how many times she mentally would shake them away, they always managed to reappear cunningly. Amy knew Sara didn't mean to spit them out; she was frustrated. She also knew that if she stuck around longer, Sara would have apologized.
Ignoring the blinking elevators on her floor, she passed by them distractedly and headed for the doors that lead to the staircase. As Amy started climbing down the stairs, a horrible aroma ran up her nostrils. Pot. No matter how many months have passed, the cemented and rusty staircase never ceased to smell like a drug-junkie hangout. Despite the fact that the rest of her apartment building seemed decent and welcoming, the stairs had a history of their own.
As Amy opened the first level doors that guided her outside, she was thankful as fresh air greeted her. She deeply inhaled the natural smell, and continued walking down the crowded Chicago sidewalks. A strong gust of wind danced around her, causing her dark hair to stretch around her pale face wildly. Amy clutched her red jacket securely, regretting the fact that she wore her knee-length pencil skirt and heels. Today was obviously not the time for such attire.
Multiple cars honked and people talked rapidly into their cell phones around her. In spite of the rushed noise, Amy kept her glance forward and looked toward her main objective; Grant Park.
The scenery of the park ahead of her looked striking and wonderful. Its lawn was bright and fluorescent green, its pavement was clean and held no litter, and the people situated in it seemed to glow with peacefulness. Amy smiled slightly and walked faster, eager to get to her destination.
When Amy reached the park, she headed for the nearest secluded bench. Her heels clicked repeatedly against the cement floor as she reached for it. Once she was sitting on the painted-brown bench, her thoughts wondered off once more.
How much of an impact would Ronnie make on Sara's life? Amy hoped none; she wanted those boys out of their lives as soon as possible. She knew her thoughts seemed selfish, but she knew the guys' influences wouldn't be good on her and Sara's lives. They've caused nothing but stress and arguments since they've arrived.
The Bryan guy didn't seem like such a nuisance, but Amy barely knew him. Omar and Robert weren't even so disastrous, but they were hardly there. On the other hand, Ronnie was a cigarette-craving rock star and Max was an overall piece of scum. What a joyous combination of male species.
Amy hadn't meant it when she told Sara she wouldn't stick around to watch her and Ronnie's relationship; Amy didn't like the guy, but she would never dream of ditching her friend. Not a chance. Especially with the likes of Ronnie.
Finally clearing all of her unanswered thoughts, Amy got up from the bench satisfied. As she starting making her way out of Grant Park, she was met with crowds of people again. Sighing, Amy turned into a more secluded street, one where she had her own personal space.
As Amy kept walking, a rough chuckle appeared beside her. She gasped softly as she turned to see the owner of the voice. Her stomach dropped and her hands grew moist with heat. Her heart seemed to thump right out of her skin. Standing a few feet away from her was a group of middle-aged men.
"Hey sweet cheeks. Why you out here by yourself?" asked the guy standing in the front of the group. A slight Yankee accent was present in his voice.
Amy shook her head and mumbled noises; her speech seemed to vanish. She slowly backed away from them, her wide eyes never leaving their mischievous faces.
In a normal scenario, horny men harassing an innocent female would appear old and completely filthy. This wasn't a stereotypical group though; they were well cut, had normal jeans and shirts, and held no evidence of facial hair. The horrifying appearance was in their eyes.
"Aw don't be like that babe," the guy in front said. "We don't hurt."
At this comment the men looked at each other and chuckled. Amy's saliva caught in her throat. She wished she had never left the safety of her apartment.
Amy shook her head in a dazed manner and she crossed her arms protectively in front of her chest; she felt naked.
"Don't leave, angel," the guy said, and like before, the other men grinned with misbehavior.
As Amy felt her feet move even more, the man in the front grabbed her arm viciously.
"I said don't leave."
As a scream started to erupt in the back of her throat, one of the guys to the right grabbed her shoulder, and lapped his other hand onto her mouth. She stared at him with terror and she started shaking hastily. She felt moisture on her heated cheeks.
"Aw, she's crying."
A man to her right went up behind her. She felt his large hands place themselves on her waist tightly. She felt his warm breath crawl against her collarbone. She smelled whiskey.
"We won't hurt you."
Amy let out a sob and shut her eyes forcefully. She could do nothing but shake her head in plead. She was surrounded left and right.
Another man from her left ran his cold fingers down her cheek, causing her knees to sway with weakness; it was not a good emotion. He leaned forward and stuck his lips onto her wet cheeks. With protection, Amy dug her heels into the side of his calf. He grunted with pain and annoyance.
"Shouldn't have done that sweetheart," he chuckled. His hazel eyes swam with anger.
Amy moved her body rapidly, trying to break free from the grips of the middle-aged men. The man with the hazel eyes grabbed her face, causing the other man to take his hand off of her trembling mouth.
Amy took this as her only spare chance; she screamed. A blood curling scream that seemed to explode from her mouth; she had used all of her energy. One of the men crashed his lips onto her smaller ones, causing her to heave with disgust. Hints of alcohol traced across her tongue. She felt as if she was going to throw up her stomach's contents.
And in a second, the filthy lips left hers and a rush of fresh air entered her mouth. She heaved a gust of breath from her lungs and she bent over, her hands on her knees. Her eyes were still shut tight with fear and it wasn't until she opened them that she seemed to have lost her sense of breathing once more.
Standing in the middle of the circled men with a deadly look in his light eyes, was Max. It had been quite obvious that he was perturbed; his hands were balled into trembling fists and his face was as still as a river in winter.
"What's the deal, jackass?" the man who had kissed Amy, had said.
Amy saw Max breathing out through his nose; his thin lips seemed sewn together.
"Didn't your mothers ever teach you to never touch a woman?" Max replied smartly, poison and sarcasm hidden in his voice. "Or were they pathetic like you?"
"Why you little—
The first man speaking was cut off by his companion on his right. "Cool it, Fred."
Fred turned to his friend with daring eyes. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't ring his neck."
At this point, Amy stood with wide eyes, unable to speak or move. This scene living in front of her presence seemed too surreal. Maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe she was still sitting on that bench in Grant Park, daydreaming about nothing. Unfortunately, Amy knew in her subconscious mind that this was real.
"We don't want the cops involved, Fred," Fred's friend stated. "If you get one spot of blood on that kid, you might as well book your next jail cell."
Fred grunted in disapproval but he backed away from Max. "You're lucky this time kid."
Fred and his "cronies" as Amy bluntly thought, started retaliating in another direction, finally leaving. Just before they were a few feet away, Fred turned and winked swiftly at Amy.
"Catch ya' later sweet cheeks. Maybe another time I can explore you a bit more."
At this perverted comment, Max leapt from the spot in which he was standing and ran at Fred with his arms extended a good length in front of him. His pierced lips were pulled back in a snarl.
Amy gasped and tried to pull him back, but Max was already sprinting full speed towards the grinning Fred.
"Max, no!" shrieked Amy, running in his direction.
At this point, she wished with all her might that she hadn't worn heels. She wished she lacked professional attire for just this one day.
As Amy was running jaggedly towards Max, she witnessed his pale fist colliding with Fred's perspired face. It then happened all at once. All of the men surrounding Fred tore Max's grip away, and proceeded into hurling him hits in random places around his body.
Amy let out a cry at this, and tried to regain speed. She hated his guts of course, but she couldn't let herself witness a cruel beating and just stand there. She wasn't that heartless. Finding it hopeless to run in her heels, she stopped rapidly, took them off with a yank, and then ran to Max's destination.
She hadn't planned out what she was going to exactly do once she reached him, so at this point in the situation, her mind went blank. The guys on the outside of the fighting circle saw her approach through their peripheral vision, and then turned to her direction with mischievous grins.
"Come to play dear?" one of them said.
Amy shook her head hopelessly, and attempted to slip into the circle where Max was being harassed. When she got to the point, she wasn't surprised to see the men ruthlessly outnumbering him in combat, but she was surprised to see that Max's actions kept up in toughness.
"Max, let's go!"
Without thinking, Amy hurled herself until she was right beside him. He snapped his head towards her and looked at her with agreement; he wanted to ditch as well. Giving a final groan, Max pushed the man that was off of him, and grabbed Amy's sweaty hand tightly.
Amy felt herself being dragged out of the circle uncomfortably. She had left her heels a few feet away and was now running bare foot on a street that could have many gruesome things on its cement floor. It didn't help that she wasn't used to athletic activity and that Max's hands were painfully clasped around hers; his fingers were sticky and hot.
As they ran onto the main street where many crowds awaited them, people gave them curious stares. Surely two teenagers running with petrified looks on their faces weren't a normal sight to encounter. It didn't help that Amy was barefoot.
"M-Max," Amy breathed roughly through her heaving chest.
He gave her no regard as he kept on running, his glance remained forward. And though his lips were barely moving; he spoke:
"What is it?" he replied curtly.
The snappy tone in his voice reminded Amy of the reasons why she detested him. Sure he had possibly saved her from rape, but those situations just don't change a person. Statistics didn't make that proof.
"C-Can we stop running? I-I can't even breathe!" Amy stammered.
Giving a mild eye roll, Max halted. Amy noted that both his and her chest were rising and falling dangerously fast. She also noted that he was still clutching her hand as if it were vital. Without saying anything, Amy snatched her hand back; glad the hot feeling surrounding it was gone. Max noticed her action, and coughed awkwardly, turning his attention to his vans.
Amy looked to her right and noticed they were situated in front of her apartment building. "What a coincidence."
Max smirked when her heard her comment. "Why did you think I stopped running?"
Amy turned to him with her eyebrow reaching her hairline. "Because I asked you to?"
Max snorted and shook his head. "Don't flatter yourself too much."
Amy began to speak but Max cut her off rudely by walking towards the lobby doors. The nerve of that guy. Before he grabbed onto the handle, he turned to her with malicious eyes.
"Hope you're aware that you're going to be telling them what happened, Amy dear."
Amy's mouth hung open like a damp cave entrance. "What? Why?"
Without a response, Max sneered and walked into the apartment building.