There's Something Against Us

Chapter 18

"No." Steven's words cut through the air, his answer much louder than my question.

He's glaring at me, and the space around us is very quiet. My own eyes are surely as wide as his now, my heart racing much too fast in my chest. He is mad... But I don't think it's at me.

"You know him?" He continues, sounding very much...well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he sounded hurt. But why would he care at all?

Steven leans closer to me, and I almost feel intimidated by the gesture. There's something I'm missing about this situation, that much is clear.

"Not really." I can't help but shrug - I'm not lying, per se.

"Mara," Steven's expression softens, and he sighs to himself, sounding very much exasperated.

He's not mad, I think - if anything - he's conflicted, though I haven't a clue about what could be bothering him. It's not about Johnny or Angie now, is it? If only him or Johnny told me things once in a while...maybe then I wouldn't feel so lost all the time.

"You should stay away from him." His tone is gravely serious, so much so that it sends a chill down my spine. I must look as afraid as I feel, because Steven goes on to explain further.

"He's..." His eyes lower now, and I'm reeling in anticipation. He's what?

Steven shakes his head, not at me - no. It's more like he's upset with himself.

"Steven?" My hand twitches, and I fight off the urge to place it on top of his. But I want to. I really do want to comfort him, even though I may be a little unsettled myself. Maybe what I really want is for him to comfort me.

"He's done terrible things, and I'd hate to see anything like that happen to you." All the blood in my body rushes to my face. He would hate what?

"But Johnny is friends with him. How bad could he be?" I ask, even though I know very well that I'm going to listen to Steven's advice anyways.

The terrible things he speaks of - just what is that supposed to mean?

Steven tilts his head at me, giving me a you must be kidding me look. This confirms my suspicions about his feelings. So I was right - he doesn't like Johnny's friends, either. And now we both know it; we're both on the same page, finally.

I wait a moment for him to say something more, but he offers nothing else.

"He creeps me out anyways." The words spill out of my mouth, and I can feel the pressure of more word vomit coming out before I have the chance to register what I've just revealed to him.

"I think he wanted to sit with me at lunch. He never leaves me alone in class. And yesterday at lunch he sat with us and Johnny-" I take a deep breath, unsure of why I can't stop myself, "and Johnny and him-"

"You do know him?" Steven interrupts.

Wait, what?

"He invited me to a party next Friday." I blurt.

Steven turns towards the group, and then back to me. This is the last thing I want to be talking about with him.

"And you want to go?" His voice drips with distaste.

"No," I answer in record time. "Of course not." And that's the truth.

Steven pulls at the collar of his shirt uncomfortably, a confused expression settling on his face.

Out of curiosity, I glance up at the group too. Angie and Johnny are chatting and smiling, James is staring at a wall - which I can certainly relate to - and Ted is glaring at me...at the both of us. Steven must've gotten the same look from him.

As much as I want to turn away, I can't fight the fact that he makes me angry, and that I want to win the stare down I've unwillingly entered. He should look away first. I don't want him to think he can scare me.

"So," Steven's voice drags my attention away, "I'm still coming over on Sunday," I feel my own eyes widen at the thought as he continues, "right?"

I bite into my cheese sandwich and nod frantically. At least if I'm eating I'll stop babbling on so much.

To be honest, I'd almost forgotten about Steven's visit. I mean - if he and Johnny are arguing, how are we all supposed to go to the concert together? And if we aren't going to the concert, then why would he still come over?

"What's your address?" He asks me, successfully changing the subject.

I place my sandwich back in its aluminum foil wrapping and reach for a notebook in my bag.

"Is there a certain time I should be there?" He continues his questioning, making my face turn even more red - if that's even possible. He really is going to come, and so soon!

Just the thought of Steven - at my house, of all places - makes me want to faint at the very place I sit.

As I pull out a pencil and begin to write down my address, he bites into the apple I gave him, licking his lips after he does so. I look away immediately, trying very hard to focus on anything that's less distracting. Ah, yes: the stone wall.

"Um-" I feel my stomach twist into knots, "w-whenever you'd like." I gulp down hard as I finish writing down my address. The sound of him chewing becomes louder as he leans closer to me to take the paper. Oh...he smells so...so sweet.

I bite my tongue, tear out the sheet, and try my very best to hand it off to him with a steady hand.

"Thank you." His voice is like velvet now.

I peek up at him and he's already scanning the notebook paper, still leaning next to me as he reads. I hope it's legible enough, and that my nervousness didn't stop me from writing down the correct address.

"You have nice handwriting." Oh? His thumb grazes over the paper - over every word I wrote down. "How long have you lived at this address?"

He turns his whole body toward me now, his mood seeming completely different than a moment ago.

"At Porlock Ave?" I ask, dumbfounded.

He nods.

"Um..." I try and think of the exact day, though it's hard to focus when he's this close to me.

It was a horrific experience if my memory serves me correctly. The whole process was a disaster - even the moving truck driver was in a bad mood.

"This past June." Yes, that's when. The third of June, 1978. I even remember putting up the calendar in my bedroom and circling the date; as if it all meant anything.

"I live very close by," I can't say that's a bad thing, "But I'm sure I've never seen you before last Thursday." Our eyes meet as he speaks, and I break the contact as quick as possible, instead staring at my feet. He..he recalls it so specifically? No, that would never be the case. I'm deluding myself, I'm sure.

"Well, I...I didn't- I mean I don't really walk around. My mum, she.." I try to think of the right words- the right words to not sound like a loser, "...doesn't let me walk around much. She's still petrified from the moors murders."

Which is really embarrassing of me to admit aloud, I realize a little too late. So much for not sounding like a loser.

"She's right." Steven is quick to respond. "It isn't safe alone." There's almost a reprimanding tone in his voice. He really sounds like my mum right now.

I begin to nod, but our conversation is interrupted by the sound of the bell ringing. To be truthful, I don't want to leave yet.

I like being here with him. It's the only part of school I do like.

A/N:

Next chapter has a small little time jump. ^.^

I'm sorry I'm so slow about updating but if I didn't edit the chapters it would be really crappy (trust me) :P I don't know if anyone can relate but it's really hard to write a story! I underestimated how much effort it would take.

when I get to a certain part I can guarantee I'll update faster (I have so much planned out, at this rate the story will be like 60 chapters 😟)