The Band Boy

Chapter 4

Thursday. I'm going to confront him today.

This guy has to be going somewhere every day, or almost every day-I just don't where where he's going. He might be drug trafficking, going to his job as a prostitute, or maybe even home. I just want to find out.

I'm not a stalker or anything, I'm just...curious.

I'm wearing a maroon cami, with a black sweater that folds and flows at the front. The large sweater goes down around my thighs, and my combat boots well compliment my gray hip hop pajama pants. (They don't look like pajamas, and they aren't. They're actually comfy workout pants)

I drag my way through school, not really caring today.

Today is about the guy.

I'm going to follow him to wherever he flies off to at the end of the day.

I see him outside the locker bay near the exit door, and when he slips off I wait a few seconds, then follow.

He exits the building, and begins walking towards... His car? Shoot. I then realize that my car is parked quite close to his, so I will still be able to follow. Although I'm only a Junior, I get to park in the Senior lot. I guess you could say I have an in with Officer Pounar. We're kind of bffs. Just kidding. But my family has known his family for a long time, so he lets me park in the senior lot. I notice several parking tickets on the guy's car, indicating that he's not really aloud to park there.

...

I follow him for a few miles turning left, right, left, tracking all of my moves through google maps so that I know how to get back home. He pulls into a parking lot I recognize very clearly. It's actually just down the street from my house, I just didn't notice because we took a different route. My Mother used to take me driving in this parking lot every Sunday.

Why is he here? There's nothing interesting but a dance studio.

He pulls in, hopping out of his car, me not far behind. I play flappy bird in the parking lot for a few minutes to pass the time, when I hear a knock on my window.

Shit.

I roll it down.

"Can I help you?" I ask innocently.

"I believe the real question is, can I help you."