John And Haley

The light was down, but he could still see the pink tones in her sweater. Her blonde hair sprawled out on his bed, her lipstick slightly smeared. John looked at her exposed stomach, the rhinestone strawberry glittering in the dim light on her navel. He wanted to feel her stomach all the way to her breasts. Stacey grabbed his shirt and pulled John down to lie on top of her. John's cell vibrated in his pocket and Stacey made a pouty face. Disgusting, he thought. Wasn't an 18-year-old too old for pouting? He reached in his pocket and saw that it was a text from Haley. "Hey r u still awake?" it said. John took a second to think it over, and put the cell back in the pocket, switched off.

School wasn't until Monday, a whole day to kill. John walked to the park, just about ten steps away. Nice day, he thought. He had nothing to do. He could text Stacey and hook up again, but that might confuse the situation. Then again, being a teenager, he was more than ready to go less than 18 hours later. Haley would probably be free, Aaron was always busy nowadays. No time for Haley, his first real girlfriend. John had tried to console her, but her heart strings tied to Aaron were made of gold. She loved him, a little too much for him to handle, John thought. But he could never tell Haley that. She wouldn't believe anything like that. She thought he loved her, maybe he did.

So he called Stacey. After her manicure she and John hooked up. This time they went to her house. Stacey lead John to her bedroom, past her parents with the facade of tutoring, which they already knew to look past. She bounced with every step, nearly pulling John to his knees with every lunge. Why is she so excited? John wondered. She slammed her door shut and yanked John toward her bed. Her bedroom floor was a collage of girlish panties, bras and shoes. An empty laundry basket was shunned into a corner, next to a basic algebra textbook. Probably from this year, John thought, Stacey wasn't the sharpest pencil in the package. But her neatly sharpened and painted nails were rummaging through his shirt and he couldn't think about anything but that. He thought of her pigtails, held up with purple rubber bands, how it looked down her bare back. How Haley's hair looked. How she smelled that day.

God, he thought, I can't get into this. He focused back on Stacey, who was now fiddling with his belt, his shirt unbuttoned completely.

"Stacey," he said. She looked up from unzipping his fly. "I have to go. I forgot I need to be somewhere."

"And where is that, John John?" He hated that name, especially when she said it.

"I just have to leave. Now." He wanted to say sorry, but he knew he wasn't. All he wanted was Haley. He left Stacey's home, walked in front of her parents buttoning his shirt.

Haley needed to walk. Walk a lot. But not in her dirty area of town. Out in Henderson. She knew her way around in Henderson. She drove to the park near John's house, where she knew it would be safe. She got out and walked the opposite direction of John's house for no reason except that she had never been further down than the park, and did not want to get lost today. She didn't listen to any music, the birds were singing nicely. She cleared her mind, thinking of nothing until John and Aaron popped up. Aaron, his sweet, golden hair in the morning and afternoon sun. John, his dark, dark brown hair tight to his head. His funny hat. Aaron never looked good in any hats. His head was too round. But she loved it, loved everything about him.

Then John. He was sweet, proper, old-style. A real gentleman. Held doors open, offered to carry a heavy bag, lift you up when you fell. Aaron let you be. He let you be independent, take care of yourself. He wasn't mean about it, he was just used to not.. Well, not being like John. I love him, though, she thought. No doubts, she loved him. Maybe a little too much. She tripped on the corner of some raised concrete, which brought her back to reality. She saw John walking, but pretended she didn't. Maybe he wouldn't notice, the way he walked. He walked like he was out to kill somebody.

Left, right, left, right, left, right. Just keep walking, John. Don't stop until you actually reach the end of the sidewalk. He came to an intersection. Okay, he thought, not really. But just keep walking. She'll be gone in about 6 weeks, he thought. Then he won't need to worry. But if she called, if she called like he'd invited her to, he'd come running. Hopefully fast enough so she wouldn't forget why she had called. But he would get there and she'd tell him to turn back after tea, probably. She would have revived her feelings for Aaron. Bastard, he thought. Damned fool. He looked up, for no reason, and saw Haley. She walked with her head facing the sky, as she usually liked to. Her eyes were always wide with the anticipation of learning something new, something great. What was great to her? He wondered. Was he great to her? Was she looking for him up there, in that great, big blue sky? Or was he looking for him? That fool up there, hopefully stuck in the clouds, which he was. His eyes covered to the beauty that she was. Her style, her walk, her eyes. Had he even ever noticed her eyes? Had he ever complemented her on her beautiful eyes? Probably not, damn fool.

She was pressed against the brick wall next to her. Hands pressed hard against her shoulders, pinning her. She wanted to scream, but the face that held her gaze made her calm. Calm, but aware. His eyes fired up with the anger behind the questions he shouted at her. She knew the answers he wanted, but knew she couldn't give them and be faithful to Aaron.

"What does he do for you," John shouted. "Does he held you up when you stumble? Does he call you when he says he will? Does he give a care for you?"

In sync with the questions he asked, she gave the answers. "No, no, and yes."

"He doesn't care for you. Otherwise you would've come running to him instead of into me!"

"He's just busy!" She screamed. "Why doesn't anybody understand? He's busy, that's all. At least he isn't beating me!"

"Listen to yourself! At least he doesn't beat you? No, not yet Haley. You watch, you'll be just like those other girls who walk into class with bruises jumping from behind their makeup. Broken bones, if not only a broken heart. I can't let you do that. I can't make myself handle that."

"No, I won't be like that. And you can handle it, the same way I can."