And Moving Right Along (Sample Below)

The hand slamming on the desk jolted Brandon Shaeffer from sleep. He shot upright in his chair, suddenly wide awake. His phone and notebook crashed to the floor. It took him a moment to realize where he was. His classmates snickered and giggled. His vision cleared up just in time to see Heather Meeks, one of many girls he’d leave his girlfriend for, rolling her eyes at him. If he cared about high school, cared about the people around him, maybe he would have been embarrassed. The only thing he felt was irritation at his phone possibly getting damaged. It was a good thing he had a protective case, or Mr. Perkins’ car would have suffered an unfortunate, random keying.

“Brandon, come on,” Mr. Perkins said. “I’m not really that boring, am I?”

“Fuck you,” Brandon muttered, just soft enough not to be heard.

He picked up his phone and set it on the corner of the desk. Not one word of Mr. Perkins’ history lesson managed to find its way to Brandon’s brain. Instead of listening, he peered out the window at the afternoon sun, watching the gym class play soccer. He eyed up which girls were attractive, which ones he’d get to do his homework. It was a nice distraction from class, and much better than listening about the rise of Hitler.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the last class of the day. It was finally time to go home. Brandon couldn’t get his things together fast enough. Mr. Perkins tried to call his name, hold him back for what was certainly an overdue talk. But Brandon ignored him and kept walking. The school day was officially over. There was no more in between classes discussion time. Teachers couldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to.

He made a quick stop at his locker. A moment later, Nina, the gorgeous exchange student from Ireland, opened her locker several down from his. Brandon’s heart fluttered. Nina’s skin was smooth and pale, her eyes like emeralds. The redhead’s accent was like music to his ears. She gave him a smile and a hello, and he tried to work up the nerve. Something more than a simple hello.

He’d taken one step toward her, when a goofy, lopsided smile got in the way. Tina smacked into the locker between them, yelling out a loud boo.

The boo worked. Brandon jumped, the second time in five minutes. Irritated, he backed up to his locker, and tried to peer around the shoulder of his one-time best friend. Tina was oblivious to the fact that she was in the way. She continued to roar with laughter. By the time he managed to see past her, Nina was gone.

“Did I scare you?” she asked, adjusting her glasses.

“Yeah, you got me. Are you proud of yourself?”

“Always. Hey!” She pulled out her phone. “Did you see the video of Ronnie Taylor getting attacked?”

Before he could say a word, she was shoving the phone in his face. His eyes moved about the hallway, almost guilty. It felt like everyone was watching, listening, throwing accusations for watching the video.

The video of Ronnie Taylor’s beating had gone viral, and he heard someone earlier in the day mention it was starting to make national news. The beating was savage, inhumane. It was filmed at night, and the goal posts from the football field could be see in the background. The camera-work wasn’t great, with too much movement at different times. But the way four other teens wearing masks beat him, kicked him, tied his hands behind his back, was quite clear.

Tina’s glee faded, and she tried to grab Brandon’s arm for comfort. He pulled away.

“Yeah,” he said. “I already saw it.”

“Terrible. I heard whoever did it just drove by and dumped him on his front lawn. His mother found him. Who would do that? Tommy…he would never hurt anyone.”

“Well, everyone pisses off somebody, right?”

Tina shrugged and put her phone away.

“How are you and Bobbi doing?”

He held in a sigh. Everything was going great with his girlfriend, except like normal girlfriends, she wouldn’t have sex with him. There was always some excuse. The closest they’d ever got was in the back seat of his car, their clothes completely off, when she stopped him. She wasn’t comfortable. It didn’t feel right. Their entire relationship was starting to feel like a joke. He wasn’t the high school quarterback, but he’d have more of a chance with any other girl. If things didn’t happen soon, he’d seriously consider moving on.

“We’re just fine,” he said, his tone gruff.

“Are you okay?” Tina asked. “What’s wrong?”

That was a question she didn’t want the answer to. What was wrong was her. Tina was his best friend, back in middle school. But middle school was long gone. He’d been trying to keep her at arms’ length for over a year. People simply grew up, grew apart. She was occasionally nice to have around just before a test. Tina was extremely smart, and could explain things to Brandon in a way he could understand. But her constant high energy, always-chipper personality had finally grated on him. Her braces-filled smile and pigtails were charming in sixth grade. Now, there were moments he could barely tolerate her.

“I’m fine. Why does anything have to be wrong?”

“Oh, wow. Grumpy, much?”

He rolled his eyes and shut his locker. Before he could leave, Tina grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Wait, Brandon. Just a sec.” Her smile disappeared. “I know we haven’t talked as much as we used to. And I know you got a girlfriend now and everything, so you probably share everything with her. But if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me about it. Okay? I’d listen.”

Her offer was honest, sincere. He nearly dumped on her, just to annoy her, see if she could handle it. He almost told her how much he hated their town, their school, his family. He hated his parents, hated his sister. He hated that his father had a lousy job selling insurance, with his mother answering phones at a doctor’s office. The only thing he didn’t hate was their dog, Winston.

Ever since his uncle, whom he often thought of as a father-figure, went missing, hate was so much easier to feel.

He decided to spare her his emotional garbage.

“Thanks, Tina,” he said. “I appreciate—”

“Brandon.”

He turned at the sound of his name. Dave stood at the end of the row of lockers.

He didn’t bothering approaching. He simply gave a curt nod, and walked away.
Dave wasn’t even an acquaintance, just a guy who sold things. Brandon understood the code perfectly. It was time to meet at their normal spot.

“I have to go,” he told Tina.

“Okay,” Tina said. “I’ll see you—”

Brandon walked away before she could finish.

He left school, carrying only his backpack. He would have left it in his locker, but had a feeling he’d need it after talking with Dave. He crossed the football field, where the team was warming up. His pace slowed as he took notice of the goal posts. The track was next. He circled behind the storage room, where they stored the hurdles and starting blocks. Dave waited for him.

“Shit. Took you long enough.”

“Fuck off. I had to get rid of Tina.”

“Ah. Tina. The things I would do—”

“Hey, shut your mouth. Don’t screw with Tina.”

“Whatever, man. Calm—”

“I want to go home. You got something for me, or what?”

“Hold on.”

Dave searched nearby, making sure no one watched. He dropped his backpack and pulled out the biggest knife Brandon had ever seen. Dave handed it over. Brandon tested the weight before playfully pointing it at Dave’s chest.

“Hey! Watch that shit!”

Brandon was impressed, but there was a small problem.

“Ah, man. It’s a knife. I said I wanted a fucking gun.”

“It’s a start, right? Fifty bucks.”

Brandon thought about his new friends, the crowd he’d fallen in with. They ran at night, drank a few beers every now and then, had a little fun. They’d never stop giving him a hard time if he showed up to party with a knife.

“Goddamnit.” He pulled out a fifty dollar bill. Before handing it over, he gave Dave a light slap across the face. Not hard enough to hurt. He’d claim he was playing, but hoped the meaning was clear. “I need a gun.”

“Relax. I’m on it. It’ll just take a few days.”

Dave slid the weapon away and left. He climbed into his piece-of-junk, hand-me-down loaner from his father and headed home. He’d have the house all to himself. His father had to work late, and his mother had a ladies-night-out scheduled. Maybe he’d order a pizza, take Winston for a walk. He could watch some porn, see if he could convince Bobbi to come over. Maybe she’d finally step out of her panties.

All his hopes were dashed when he pulled up to the house and saw a familiar car sitting in the driveway.

“Ah, Christ.”

She slid out from behind the wheel as he killed the engine. His sister Gina tossed her hair over her shoulder, her typical annoyed expression. The feeling was mutual. He shut the car door behind him and settled his backpack on his shoulder. Gina had her own collection of books in her arms. She looked ridiculous, as always. Gina always prided herself on not caring what others thought, even bragged about it. Her clothes didn’t flatter her at all. Her shoes were falling apart. She waited for him as he walked up the driveway.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a campus to terrorize?”

“Mom invited me over to dinner.”

“You’re an idiot. She’s not even going to be home tonight.”

They walked together toward the door.

“I’d rather be an idiot than an asshole, like you. Mom texted me. Said she was making a casserole. You probably got your days mixed up.”

“Whatever. Hang out all you want and starve.”

Gina unlocked the door with her own key.

“How’s school?” she asked. “How’s Bobbi?”

“Don’t act like you care.”

“Jesus, Brandon. Can we talk normal for just a single time?”

“Probably not.” He closed the door behind them. “Winston! Come here, boy! I’m home.”

Strangely, the dog didn’t come. Winston typically spent his days sleeping on Brandon’s bed. He’d be halfway downstairs before his key even touched the lock.

“Winston?” Gina called. “Where you at?”

“Like he’s going to come for you.”

“Shut up.”

Gina dropped her books on the couch. Brandon kept his on his shoulder, not letting it out of his sight until he had a moment alone. Gina turned and walked backwards, facing him, as they aimed toward the kitchen. That habit of hers always annoyed him, and he took great pleasure whenever she tripped and fell.

“Hey!” she said. “Did you see that video online? Someone got the shit kicked out of them at your school!”

“Yeah. I fucking saw the video.”

“Do you know who it was? I can’t believe—”

She went quiet as they turned into the kitchen. The look on Brandon’s face wasn’t one of shock, but of surprise. Gina noticed, and turned to see what had him spooked.

A man they didn’t know stood behind the center island. He was tall, with broad shoulders. He wore a white dress shirt, with the top button open. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he prepared a simple sandwich. The refrigerator door was open behind him.

He looked up, an irritated scowl on his face. His eyes were dark, almost as if the man didn’t get enough sleep.

“Which one of you two dick-heads left an empty bottle of mustard in the fridge?” He held up the mustard. “It’s not that hard to handle. You use the mustard. It runs out. Now, here’s the important part. You throw it away. Then you tell Mommy or Daddy to get new mustard. See how that works?” He grabbed the counter, visibly frustrated. “A turkey and cheese without mustard. For the love of shit.”

Gina grabbed Brandon’s hand, her palm cold and sweaty. She was scared. They hadn’t shown any affection toward each other for years. The gesture surprised him.

Brandon wasn’t scared, only angry.

“L-Look,” she stammered. “We don’t have any money here.”

The stranger laughed.

“Yeah. Trust me, I see that. This place would be right at home on Sanford and Son.” His eyes narrowed, almost accusing, as he pointed a butter knife at each of them. “I’ll bet you don’t even know what that is, do you?”

The backpack on Brandon’s shoulder felt like a lifeline. Whoever the stranger was, whatever he wanted, he wasn’t going to get it. He’d stab him a hundred times if he had to.

“Who the hell are you?” Brandon asked.

“Ah, yes. Introductions. Manners. Not one of my strengths. I would offer to make you both a sandwich. But, you know, no mustard.” He nodded at each of them. “Gina, Brandon, I’m Jack.”