The Milkshake Project

Ain't That A Shame

Morning dawned, and I left the house with an overall sense of bliss. Sunday came and went in a way I can only describe as painstaking. I was glad it was Monday. Yes, yes, I was glad it was Monday. In the only time I can remember, I was actually looking forward to going to school.  And I knew why.

However, the feeling melted away by the end of the morning. I sat alone at my desk as the first bell rang then the late bell. My hope slowly seeped away as the clock continued on ten, twenty, thirty minutes into Human Ethics. Before I knew it, the dismissal bell was ringing, and I was headed off to the next class.

I briefly wondered if the police had caught Rider as I made way to the crossway of the halls. I'm sure they'd have known he lived there when we ran past his house, not to mention that fact that he's done that before.

I met Bonnie at the corner in the same programmed manner as I had every day, and I was about to tell her about Rider when a voice called out behind me.

"Hey, you're Ellie right?"

I turned around to see three guys standing behind me. I didn't recognize them from any of my classes or from Jack's team, but they all seemed to have this recognizable appearance about their faces. One of the boys, a lankier guy whose ears stuck out a bit, stepped forward.

"Rider wants to see you after school," the boy said, "Out on the front, on the steps."

"What?" I said, Bonnie and I looking at each other.

"Yeah, I don't know. He just said he wanted to see you."

"And he sent you four?" Bonnie asked.

"He just told us to tell you," The boy shrugged, and he abruptly turned to leave.

"Hey, wait! Where is he?" I asked, but the boys had already walked away.

"That was...weird," Bonnie said.

She and I looked at each other before sharing a shrug and heading off to class.

~

The rest of the day went by in occupied anticipation. Everything about the way those boys approached me seemed off. Just how they said "see you after school" made it sound like we were talking about an after-school meeting with the principal and not Rider Hale. It didn't sound like something the leather-clad greaser would say. Never the less, I was going to meet Rider where he said he would be.

I followed the dismissal crowd out the front doors of the school, but I stopped just shy of the stairs. There I stood, waiting for Rider.

I stood there for a good five minutes, watching the schoolyard bustled with people, but Rider never appeared. The afternoon wore on and I was beginning to give up hope that anybody was coming.

I was about to make my way down the stairs when I felt something drip onto my sweater. I brushed my hand across my shoulder to see a yellowish, oily trial smeared on my hand. There was pittering sound as more droplets sprinkled on my shoulders and onto the pavement around me.

The droplets suddenly thickened and a rush of liquid crashed over my head. I gasped as the warm, slick substance poured over my face and down my back. The rancid smell of old grease permeated the air as my clothes became soaked in the stuff. I stood there frozen, grease dripping from hair and dress, as my hands shakily rose to wipe my eyes.