“We could get arrested for this you know.”

“Duh. Why else do you think we’re doing it?”

“I thought you wanted to piss off your dad.”

“Exactly.”

“You make no sense.”

“Just shut up and follow me!”

“Of course. Because that totally doesn’t make me an accomplice to the crime.”

“Are you serious? Okay, you know what? You can be my hostage. Does that sound better?”

”...fine.”

“Then it’s all good. Now just get in the car.”

“Where are we driving to?”

“The highway.”

“Ok but like where from the highway?”

“The highway.”

“Whoa wait... you’re gonna crash the car aren’t you?”

”...Amy?”

“Of course not. We’re just going to speed a little.”

“Oh right speed a little in a cop car with your best-friend-hostage sorta situation. How could I not see this coming?”

“Because you’re a dimwit with barely enough braincells to put on a seatbelt.”

“My seatbelt is on just fine- DID YOU JUST TURN ON THE SIREN?”

“Oops.”

“Oops? OOPS?! That’s what you have to say to this?”

“Musta accidentally hit the button. What’s the big deal?”

“I swear I am going to strangle you the second- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WOMAN DID YOU JUST DRIVE OVER A ROAD SIGN?!”

“Hey stop it! No distracting the driver.”

“Just let me do the damn steering before you kill us both.”

“Don’t worry! All the cars keep making room for us!”

“BECAUSE YOU TURNED ON THE SIREN ON A STOLEN COP CAR.”

“Chill ok? And quit the damn yelling. We’re just borrowing the car, anyways.”

“You. Don’t. Just. ‘Borrow’. Your. Dad’s. Car.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything. The real police should be here soon anyways.”

“Well they can’t get here fast enough! You’re gonna make the car crash at some point I know it.”

“No I won’t. I got this-”

“SHIT.”

“Ok. Fine. I admit it. You called that.”

“Chris?”

“Are you ok?”

“Chris??”

“I swear on everything that is holy, if your dad doesn’t kill you, I sure as fuck will.”

----

HUGE shoutout to the little kids that decided to play pretend around the library and state the line, “You can be my hostage!” to inspire this piece.

They didn’t know I was listening. I didn’t know, really. I had been sleeping. I snuggled under the blankets with my favorite stuffed animal, PJ, a ratty looking brown dog with ears that once were white, and a lopsided smile that was once straight. Although I had my own room, it shared a wall with theirs. I could hear whispering if I put my ear to the wall. But, that night, they weren’t whispering. And I didn’t want to hear.

My eyes were still closed, but my heart began to pound to the rhythm of their raised voices. I held PJ tightly to my chest as I burrowed under the blanket, trying not to hear. I didn’t understand the words, but I felt them like nails piercing my skin, my heart, causing tears to spill from my closed eyes. PJ’sear soaked up my tears and stifled the whimpering I couldn’t hold back as their voices got louder.

“Mommy,” I whispered into PJs ear when I heard the crack of skin viciously meeting skin. 

My eyes snapped open, wide and sightless in the darkness of my room. Silence followed the echo of my soft cry. Then footsteps running down the stairs. The slamming of the front door. The sound of a car door opening and closing; the motor starting. The screech of tires and the spray of gravel as the car pulled off.

Silence again.

I knelt in my bed, PJ hanging from my mouth as I pressed my ear to the wall.  

“Mommy,” I moaned, hearing the muted sound of her crying through the wall.

The Meeting of Men

A man sits next to me waiting for an in-person meeting with a client. He’s wearing a crisp light-blue button-up long sleeved shirt with a brown belt, navy blue slacks, and black shiny dress shoes. His hair is short and light brown and cut neat with style.

He comments on my drink.

“I’m jealous of your beer. I’ve got one last meeting coming up.”

I tell him its Kombucha.

We continue to work silently side-by-side for a couple of hours until the person he is meeting comes in through the coffee shop door.

As far as I can tell they have only spoken briefly on the phone. They greet and shake hands with the manly rhythm often seen in business.

One solid shake.

Sometimes two.

The new man is wearing a crisp light-blue button-up long sleeved shirt with a brown belt, navy blue slacks, and black suede dress shoes. His hair is short and light brown and cut neat with style.

They talk about business. Stuff I naturally zone out on.

I put my headphones on to drown them out.

In the midst of their meeting I hear their muffled voices heighten with glee. A rise of emotion due to a common personal connection in the world. They both reach out a hand with closed fists towards the middle of the table and knock their knuckles together with a laugh. A fist-bump. They smile and continue to talk and their voices rise once more with glee. Another connection, another fist-bump. More business talk after that. I think they are friends now. The meeting comes to an end and they hesitate to leave. I wonder what they are thinking.

The original man mentions word of a beer and the other mentions he hasn’t indulged since the birth of his recent child. An awkward moment passes and the original man rustles in preparation of leaving.

The other points out that he is going to stay. The other says he will too.

“You want me to buy you a beer?” Says the new father.

“Are you gonna have one?” Whispers the thirsty one, hushed with eager.

“Yea.”

“Yea.”

And they drink. And continue to bond like old friends. I bet they’ll complain to their wives about how each was a tool. Or maybe they’ll say each was cool. I’m still waiting to see if they connect knuckles once more.

Guy 1:"Remember Mike Andrews?"

Guy 2:"Valedictorian, high school right?"

Guy1:"Yup! That dude!"

Guy2:"What about him?"

Guy1:"Dude's gay!"

Guy2:"Dude, that's fake news, Mike had bitches on bitches, not buying it."

Both guys approach the register and place thier orders.

Guy2:"Iced coffee, very light ice please."

Guy1:"Medium coffee for me, extra cream, extra sugar with vanilla."

Guy2:"How do you know he's gay?"

Guy1:"You know my cousin Joseph right?"

Guy2:"Yeah, now THAT motherfucker is gay!"

The barista brings their drinks and they pay. I place my order and pay as well, the two guys pick a table and sit. I'm now invested in this conversation, so I sit near them I didn't hear what was said while I waited for my drink, but when I sat down, guy 1 was calling someone, I found out later who.

(The phone rang and a effeminite voice answers)

PhoneGuy: "Hey Nick wussup?"

Guy1 (Nick): "Jo-Jo, I'm with Lew, yo, I told him Mike Andrews was gay but he doesn't believe me."

PhoneGuy (Joseph): "Niiiiiiick, why is it important if he's gay?"

Guy1: "Because, I told Lewis all through high school that dude was gay, NOBODY believed me till you told me. I want him to know I was right! Just answer yes or no, did you fuck that dude?"

PhoneGuy: "That is the last time I tell you shit!" (He then sighs) "Yes, he's gay, we dated in high school and YES before you ask we slept together a few times. He broke up with me when his parents found out."

Guy1(under his voice) to Guy2: "I told you! I fuckin told you!"

Guy1: "Thanks man, I just wanted to prove this asshole wrong."

PhoneGuy: "Whatever, bye." He hung up the phone.

Guy2: "That's fucking crazy! Didn't he date Chelsea Rivers too?"

Guy1: "Sure did! Jo-Jo said that to keep up his straight act, Mike was actually fucking them both, he didn't know till later though, after the breakup."

Guy2: "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck."

Guy1: "Yup! So what do you wanna do after this? I just bought some green from Kevin if you wanna smoke."

Guy2: "I'm with that, lets roll." They then take their drinks and leave.