"Gosh dang it Lisa," Mary muttered under her breath as she looked down at her phone. Even at times like these she never swore. In her right hand hung her strapped high heels, far better for looking sexy than for walking down an unfamiliar highway in an unfamiliar state. Mary sent text after text to her friend—if indeed she still was a friend—chewing that jerk out for leaving her behind. Yet the ephemerality of a phone's battery soon gave an end to her furious tapping.
"Come on!" Mary begged to the sky as her phone let off the last of its glow before silently falling dead. Tears began to blur her vision. The sign in front of her—though distorted through a curtain of water—was clear enough: Dallas was still miles away. And already the sun lazily rest again the horizon. Mary put a hand to her head as she began to sob lightly.
The abandoned woman looked down at her thin red dress and wished she had worn something that covered more of her arms and more of her back and more of her thighs and more of her breasts. She wished for a lot of things, but that didn't stop the night air from slipping into her clothes and touching parts of her body she hadn't even touched herself. And as her nipples become ridged in the cold texas air she also wished she had worn a bra. She always wore a bra; why wasn't she wearing one now? Because of Lisa. All of it was because of Lisa: She was wearing high heels because of Lisa; she was at the concert because of Lisa; and now she was walking down a Texas road because of Lisa.
Hanging her head, Mary let out a sudden curse. "Fuck," she said—her mouth forming that crude syllable, new and unfamiliar to her tongue—before picking up her step and hurrying as quickly as she could along the highway.
A sudden radiance cast her long shadow in front of her. She stared at the unrecognizable silhouette—a thin perfection framed against the light, even her supple breasts evident in the minimalistic view—before turning to watch the car that cast the illuminance. She shielded her eyes against the sudden brightness, her shoes dangling in her face, and stuck out a thumb. To her relief the car stopped beside her.
"Hey." a voice said, though Mary still blinked away the blinding light. "Hey," the voice repeated again. "You need a ride?"
Finally the spots cleared from Mary's eyes and she could make out a dark haired boy sitting in a muscle car of some kind. His eyes were hard, with only the briefest hint of concern. A thick scar that ran over the left lid certainly didn't do anything to soften his gaze. But his upturned lips—framed by a smattering of stubble—welcomed her as he leaned halfway out the driver side window.
Mary looked down the long Texas highway that wound before her like a swamp adder, speckled with the dim light of ineffective street lamps. Then she looked back to the young man smiling warmly at her from the confines of his car as it purred idly. Standing at the crossroads of a long walk alone or a car ride with a handsome man, everything mary had ever learned about the dangers of strangers left her mind. In its place was a silent hunger—a gnawing that even Mary wasn't aware of yet.
"I don't want to be any trouble," Mary said after a few more wrestling thoughts, walking towards the car with one hand gripping her wrist nervously behind her back. "But I would absolutely love a ride."
"Yeah, it's no problem," the boy said. When his smile broadened, the scar across his eye seemed to disappear almost completely, enveloped by the early wrinkles already forming there. "It's getting dark out and I was just gonna head home, but I can make a quick stop for you. Where are you headed?"
Mary looked to the ground, unsure of what—and how much—to say to this stranger. "Well, I'm actually from out of town."
"That's no problem," said the stranger. "I've got no plans tonight or tomorrow so I can take you wherever."
"Actually," Mary said quickly. "I guess I should have said I'm from out of state. You see, a friend and I came to Texas for a concert."
The boys eyes took on a gleam as he looked in confusion. "So where's your friend?"
Mary looked up into the dark sky, the sun having just barely set. Already the night was nearing a thick darkness. "She uh..." Mary started, not really knowing herself what had happened. "I guess she ditched me. I'm all alone now. I've got nowhere to go, no way to get home, I don't even really know for certain where I am." The words spilled out of her and with it came the tears now that the full force of her situation came to rest upon her for the first time.
The gleam in the boy's eyes grew stronger. "Hey, don't worry," He said soothingly, reaching out and putting a comforting hand on Mary's bare arm. His hands were calloused and his nails were unkempt, but the warmth of a human hand was exactly what Mary needed right then. "Just get in the car and I'll drive you wherever you want to go. If you need a place to stay I'm sure my roommate wouldn't even have a problem letting you sleep at our place. Sound good?"
His tone was so soothing and the pur of his engine so hypnotizingly inviting that Mary found herself silently nodding her head. "Yeah," she finally said as she walked around to the other side and climbed in the passenger seat. "Thank you so much."
"I'm Evan," the boy said, extending a hand.
"Mary," she replied, accepting it.
***
They didn't drive far; Mary had just begun to doze off as she felt an oddly comforting crunch of gravel beneath the car tires. Shaking the beginnings of sleep from her head, Mary looked up a short driveway to a cozy brick house. It was small (judging by the windows there was only one bedroom) but it was also quaint and charming, with flowers planted in a bed out front and a bright porch light that struggled against the overbearing night.
"You live with a roommate in this place?" Mary asked with confusion at the tiny quarters. She realized how rude her question may have come across as she closed the car door behind her and followed Evan up to the house, but she couldn't find the words to fix the query.
Evan chuckled slightly before saying, "I know it looks small, but there's actually a rather large basement. Besides, JC doesn't take up that much space."
The door opened and Mary stepped through into a house sparsely—but tastefully—decorated. Mary stood in a small living room entryway that connected openly with the kitchen. Down a narrow hallway were two closed doors that Mary figured must lead to the single bedroom and a bathroom. At the end of the hall was one final door that probably hid a stairway to Evan's "rather large basement."
"JC?" Mary asked, still poking her head down the hallway while Evan shut and locked the front door behind her.
"Yeah, that's—"
"That's me!" Evan was cut off by a sandy haired boy emerging from the door at the end of the hallway.
The boy was handsome, but in a different way from Evan. Where Evan was tall and thin, JC was stocky and muscular; where Evan was dark and brooding, JC was bright and cheerful; where Evan was clean shaven, JC maintained a light scruff; and where Evan had only held a hint of a smile the entire time Mary had known him, JC's entire face radiated joy as he extended his hand.
"I'm Mary," she said, taking his hand and smiling back.
"I can't tell you how happy it makes me that Evan finally brought home a girl," JC belted loudly despite Mary's cheeks burning to match her hair. "This guy might not look it, but he's as hopeless a romantic as they come."
Mary sputtered, trying to force her tongue to correct the boisterous roommate. Evan thankfully beat her to it
.
"She just needed a ride, JC. Her friends ditched her and I found her walking down the interstate." Evan gave Mary a slight nod as she mouthed a quick thanks to him.
JC's smile faded slightly. "Holy shit. You were going to walk the entire interstate? Where do you even live?"
"I'm actually from Utah," Mary said. Both men's eyes went even wider. "I guess I wouldn't have ended up walking all that way, but I was too frazzled to think of anything better to do than to hit the road."
And of course, the next question from JC, the question that always came next: "Are you mormon?"
"JC!" Evan said sharply, but Mary just laughed.
"I am, actually," she said cheerfully. Usually an inquiry like that came with several others. And Mary was always happy to answer.
JC started to form one, but Evan stopped him. "You're probably too hungry to be hounded by questions right now. How about we eat something and you can tell us all about your religion?"
The way Evan looked at Mary made her uncomfortable. It wasn't a gaze of curiosity, but rather one of... hunger. But the way JC maintained his smile and flashed Mary a thumbs up melted the slight apprehension that Evan seemed to add to every situation.
Mary nodded gratefully. "Yes, thank you."
"JC," Evan said to his roommate who still stood in the hallway. "Would you set out the special plates?"
There was something queer in JC's smile then: An anticipation, a nervousness, and even a hunger to match Evan's. Suddenly Mary wasn't quite as comforted by that crack of teeth as she'd been just a moment before. "Sure thing, if you'll go get the good wine from the basement."
"Oh actually—" Mary started to protest the alcohol, but both men were already moving away, getting ready for a friendly dinner together.
***