A Proscriptive Relationship

by Jordan Lynde

I remembered the time I had left him all alone at the fair. And how he had come to my house just to make sure I got home okay.

  I was the hugest asshole ever.

  “Whoa. Holly, what’s wrong?” Lance asked, leaning forward. “Why are you crying?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not . . .”

  How could Lance have figured out so many of my fears about liking Mr. Heywood so quickly? I hadn’t even mentioned anything about that at all, and yet he managed to figure out my deepest secret. Even after all that I had done to him . . . he still wanted to help me.

  I rubbed my eyes and then reached my hand across the table, grabbing Lance’s. I squeezed it and he returned the squeeze. “Thank you, Lance.”

  “You’re welcome,” he responded, a warm smile on his face.

  “You’re the best friend anyone could ever have,” I told him, giving him a watery smile. “And I’m sorry for ditching you that time at the fair, and when you called because you were worried. And—”

  Lance laughed, cutting me off. “Holly, we are best friends. Not lovers. You’re making me feel like we are a couple that are making up after a huge fight.”

  I chuckled, pulling my hand away. “I guess you are right.”

  Lance nodded. “And since we are speaking of couples again, good luck with that teacher.”

  “He has a name you know,” I responded, frowning slightly.

  “I don’t like him for taking you away from me, so I won’t call him by his name,” Lance responded, rolling his eyes.

  “Taking you away from me?” I echoed.

  “You know. If you two start dating or something, I’m sure you won’t have time for poor old Lance.”

  I shook my head frantically. “I’ll always make time for you! And Casey!”

  “You promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Lance laughed. “Good. And while you’re at it, you can help me with something.”

  “Anything,” I told him.

  “You have to help me find a girlfriend, “ Lance said with a wink.

  I grinned. “Sounds good.”

  Lance returned my grin. I suddenly felt at ease. Like all my worries about liking Mr. Heywood went away. I could actually say that I liked him, and nothing in my mind made me want to deny it. I could say it.

  “I like Mr. Heywood,” I said aloud.

  Lance raised an eyebrow. “I know . . .”

  “I like him!” I repeated, smiling. “I actually like him. Out of all people.”

  Lance pursed his lips. “Are you okay?”

  I laughed and nodded. “I’m fine! After talking to you, it feels like a weight has been lifted off me. It feels nice.”

  “Hmm, maybe I should become a counselor, then.”

  I froze, staring at Lance. Him? A counselor? I could imagine the poor person he was counseling now. Lance would ask what was wrong, and the person would reply about something in their life that was bad, and Lance would go, “Oh. Sucks to be you.”

  I snickered. It was so him.

  Lance raised an eyebrow. “I hope you aren’t imagining me as a counselor right now,” he said in a slightly offended voice.

  “Nah,” I lied, smiling again.

  We ate our dinners and had a quick desert. The waiter brought the check and, due to Lance’s pestering, I ended up paying for dinner. He paid for the drinks.

  “I thought this was supposed to be a date,” I muttered as we exited the restaurant.

  “It was supposed to be but you didn’t think that at first, so it turned into a regular dinner among friends,” Lance responded.

  “I would have preferred it to be a date if I knew I would have to pay for dinner if it wasn’t,” I told him.

  Lance laughed. “Sucks to be you.”

  We rounded the corner to the parking lot. Lance suddenly stopped and I ran into his back. I rubbed my nose and looked around him to see what the problem was.

  “Lance, where’s the car?”

  Lance looked at me, shock on his face. “We parked here, didn’t we?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but where’s the car?”

  “I don’t know! Holy shit. Did it get stolen?” Lance asked, his voice panicky. “Shit, my mom is going to kill me!”

  “How could it have been stolen? There are tons of people around!” I reasoned. “Someone would have noticed. You have the keys, right?”

  “Yeah, I—”

  “Hey!” a loud, disgruntled voice shouted from behind us.

  I jumped, twisting around quickly to see who it was. An old man in a black suit was walking towards us. Lance stepped in front of me in a protective manner. I stared at him curiously. “Yeah?” he called to the man.

  “Are you the owner of a Subaru Outback?”

  Lance nodded in response.

  “Take a look at that sign behind you,” the man ordered.

  I turned to see the sign he was pointing to. In large, red letters were the words: “No parking. Violators will be towed.”

  I heard Lance groan. I rolled my eyes. It was so like Lance to park in a no-parking zone.

  “Lucky for you and your girl the towing place is only down the block,” the man told us.

  “Yeah,” Lance muttered. “Let’s go get it then.”

  I sighed and followed Lance. We left the parking lot of the restaurant and stepped out onto the brightly lit street. “Smart move,” I commented, pulling my cardigan tighter around me.

  “Shut up,” Lance responded, rolling his eyes. “You didn’t see it either, smartass.”

  I scowled at him. “I wasn’t the one driving.”

  “Only adds to my point,” Lance said with smirk.

  I sighed, letting the subject drop. We were close enough to the towing station. If it had been a few miles, I would have been angry. But it was a nice night for a walk anyways.

  As we left the main street, it grew considerably darker. Now the only light we had was from the streetlights that were spread very far apart. There were wide patches of darkness in between each set of lights. I moved closer to Lance, gripping the back of his shirt.

  “What’s the matter? Scared?” he asked in a joking tone.

  I scowled at him. “No.”

  “Sure.”

  We continued down the street in silence. I kept my eyes peeled. Mr. Heywood’s warning was back in my head again. I clutched Lance’s shirt more tightly. We were almost at the station now. A movement to my left caught my eye and I froze, staring at the place where I had seen the motion. Lance stopped, looking over his shoulder at me curiously.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Did you see something move over there?” I whispered, pointing.

  Lance scrunched his face up and watched the area for a few moments before shrugging. “Nothing.”

  “You sure?”

  “Paranoid much?” Lance laughed. “Come on, let’s go.”

  He began to push me down the street in a forceful manner. I had to stay focused on my feet in order not to lose my balance. When I looked up again I realized we were at the towing station. Relief swept through me. Mr. Heywood was just being silly. No one was going to attack me in the middle of downtown.

  Lance and I entered the towing station. There were only three people in there. A man at the counter that was on the phone, and two men in the corner, their backs turned to us as the read papers posted on a billboard.

  “You can wait here,” Lance said, pointing to a chair by the door. “I’ll get my car issue settled.”

  I nodded and took a seat as Lance went up to the counter. The man at the counter held up a finger, signaling Lance to stay quiet while he was on the phone. After a few moments the man hung up the phone and began talking to Lance.

  My gaze wandered to the two men at the counter. They book looked pretty young and buff. I smiled slightly. Was everyone buff these days? I glanced back at Lance. His build was average, like Mr. Heywood’s. But both men were still very strong.

  Lance turned to me with a frown. “Holly!”
I was still focused on the two men and didn’t realize he was calling me. “Oh look, it’s Mr. Heywood!”

  My head snapped in the direction of Lance. He grinned at me and I felt myself blush.

  “Do you have any money on you?” he asked. “I’m a few dollars short . . .”

  I didn’t catch the rest of what he said. I was too busy staring at the two men, one of whom had now turned around and looked straight at me. My mouth went dry as he smirked. He said something to the other guy and a flash of realization spread across his face.

  I quickly stood up, walked towards Lance. “Here,” I said, quickly pulling a bill out of my pocket and shoving it toward the man. “Keep the change.”

  “Alright, you’re free to go then,” the man said. “Your car is in the back of the lot, by the Dumpster.”

  I grabbed Lance’s arm and dragged him out of the station.

  I felt like I was going to be sick. My heart was pumping furiously and my hands were sweaty and shaking. I pulled on Lance with urgency, trying to make him go faster.

  “What’s the matter?” Lance asked, laughing slightly. “That guy wasn’t that scary.”

  “It wasn’t the guy at the counter I was worried about.” I looked over my shoulder and saw the other two guys exiting the building, and heading towards us.

  I pulled out my phone, starting a new text message. I quickly tapped away at my phone, my hand shaking, making it hard to click on the right letters. When I finished I closed my phone, sticking it back in my pocket.

  I looked over my shoulder again. The men were still there. They were two of the guys that Mr. Heywood had beaten up at the fair.

  LESSON twelve

  The two thugs were a few hundred feet behind us. I didn’t tell Lance what was going on. I figured if he and I kept a brisk pace, we would be able to make it to the car before they caught up to us. And once we were in the car we could lock the doors and I could call the cops. Or Mr. Heywood.

  “Hurry up, Lance,” I begged, out of breath. “Please.”

  “What’s wrong?” Lance asked, serious now. “Holly?”

  He followed my gaze over his shoulder and we saw the two men now running towards us.

  “Run!” I screamed, grabbing Lance’s hand and bolting down the row of cars.

  Lance stumbled after me, looking behind him. Eventually he faced the front again, sprinting by my side.

  “Who are they?”

  “I’ll explain later, we just need to get away as soon as possible—”

  I stopped abruptly, making Lance knock into me, sending me sprawling onto the ground. I landed hard and smacked my head against the dirt. I groaned, and pushed myself off the ground.

  When I looked up I came face to face with two more men, but these two were unfamiliar.

  “Hey, let go of me!” I heard Lance demand.

  My head snapped towards him and I saw the two thugs from before holding onto his arms tightly.

  “Let him go!” I demanded. “He doesn’t have anything to do with this!”

  “He knows Heywood,” said the man who was holding me, the same man I had punched in the face at the fair. “That’s enough reason.”

  A pair of rough hands on my shoulders yanked me up from the ground and forced me to my feet. I broke out from under them and ran towards Lance, only to be tackled from behind. I groaned in frustration when my head once again slammed down on the hard dirt. I really needed to think before I acted.

  “You’re a feisty one, huh,” the man pinning me down commented. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Get off her!” I heard Lance shout. “Who are you guys?”

  “Shut up,” one of the other men responded to him.

  “No! You’re hurting her!”

  I heard the sound of a fist being slammed into a gut and someone groaned. My heart skipped a beat. Lance.

  “I hope you think before you talk now,” the same man who had spoke before said.

  The man pinning me to the ground rolled off me and there was a pressure on my back and I winced, hearing scuffling in the dirt. When the man was finally standing up, he grabbed my hair and forced me to my feet.

  “You take the girl and I’ll take the British brat, Dan,” the one holding me offered.

  “Good idea, Jack.”

  So the person I punched before was named Dan. Good to know.

  “I think she owes me an apology anyways,” Dan continued, gesturing Jack closer to him.

  I was forced into Dan’s arms as Lance was shoved to Jack. Before Dan had a good grasp on me, Lance suddenly swung his fist, hitting Dan squarely in the face. With his other hand, Lance quickly brought his fist into Jack’s face. Jack fell to the ground and didn’t move.

  I blinked, feeling a little amazed. I didn’t know Lance could fight.

  “Holly! Behind you!” Lance shouted, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

  I twisted my body around, only to see a fist coming straight at me. I gasped, twisting again to avoid it. Dan scowled at me, his arm outstretched. Before I knew what I was doing, I kicked him where the sun didn’t shine.

  Dan groaned and hunched over. Lance immediately grabbed my wrist, squeezing it painfully. I gasped as he pulled me away from Jack and Dan. I stumbled over my own feet, but managed to quickly regain my balance.

  Lance ran forward, but suddenly I was tugged backwards. I cried out from the pain of my wrist being yanked back while Lance was still trying to pull me forward. Lance turned back with a scowl.

  “Behind you!” I gasped, pointing at one of the unfamiliar men who suddenly appeared behind Lance.

  Lance let go of me and, twisting on his heel, brought his fist flying into the other man’s face. I watched in awe, until I realized the other man from the fair still had a grip on me.

  I felt him pull on my hair and I twisted my head around and bit his arm. He cried out in shock and ripped his arm away from my face, releasing my hair. I noticed a pile of tires behind the man, so I shoved him in the chest with all the force I could muster. Luckily, it was enough to make him take a few steps back and he topped over the tires.

  I felt Lance’s hand at my wrist again.

  “Run!”

  Together we booked it down the aisle of cars again. I could see Lance’s car now. It was only about twenty more cars away and I didn’t hear any footfalls behind us. We could make it!

  We were ten cars away when suddenly a bat came swinging out of nowhere. I watched in horror as it made contact with Lance’s head. A startled scream escaped my lips as Lance crumpled to the ground instantly.

  “Lance!” I shouted, dropping to my knees beside him.

  He didn’t reply. Tears sprung to my eyes immediately. My hands hovered over him, unsure if it was safe to move him. “Lance! Wake up!”

  “He’s out cold, girly,” said Dan, hovering over me with a baseball bat was resting across his shoulders.

  “You bastard!” I cried, clenching my fists.

  “Look, I just had to make sure there weren’t any distractions,” he told me. “That guy was in the way.”

  “He’s my best friend!” I said, now pushing myself to my feet. “How could you do—”

  He suddenly reached out and pulled me in close to him. I cringed at our proximity. All I could smell was his cologne. He lowered his head to my ear. “I believe I still owe you from last time . . .”

  I was about to ask him what he was talking about, when his fist struck the side of my head. I stumbled backwards from the force. I raised a hand to my cheek, which throbbed painfully. For a moment, I was in complete shock.

  Who hits girls?

  Before I could answer my own question, he struck again, in the same spot.

  I cried out, stumbling backwards, falling on the hood of a car. Dan appeared above me. He held his hand on my stomach, making sure I couldn’t move. “How does it feel to be punched?”

  “I punched you once,” I responded, shoving his hand off my stomach. “That’s not fair.”

  Dan n
arrowed his eyes. “You don’t realize you are dealing with a gang here, do you? There’s nothing ‘fair’ about this. Besides, you also kicked me—”

  At the sound of Lance’s groaning, Dan’s and my attention shifted to Lance struggling to push himself up into a sitting position.

  Relief washed through me. He was okay!

  Dan turned around. “Do I have to bash you over the head again?”

  I seized the opportunity to grab the baseball bat from his shoulders and slide it out of his grasp. He turned in surprise and without any hesitation I struck him in the head. He tottered on his feet for a second, but didn’t pass out. I stared in horror as he scowled at me.

  What had I just done? I looked from him to the bat. Had I really just hit him in the head with a bat?

  “You,” the man growled.

  It was either fight or be maimed.

  I swung the bat back for a second hit but he quickly grabbed my forearm, twisting it painfully. I cried out, my fingers straightening from the pain. The bat fell to the ground. I cursed.

  “You just keep digging yourself a deeper grave, don’t you?” Dan growled, still twisting my wrist.

  “Stop,” I begged, turning my body with my wrist so it wouldn’t snap. “Oh my god, please, stop!”

  To my surprise, he dropped my wrist. I breathed a sigh of relief until I realized he had picked up the baseball bat. He raised it high above his head. I froze, staring at him with my mouth wide open. He wouldn’t . . . would he?

  My question was answered when he suddenly swung the bat down. I raised my arms to cover my head. There was the sickening sound of wood hitting bone, but no pain.

  My eyes shot open to see a tan, muscled arm stopping the bat, inches from my head.

  “Sorry I’m late,” a smooth voice apologized.

  I watched as the arm blocking the bat from me turned and gripped the bat, yanking it from Dan’s hand.

  Dan had an expression of fear mixed with anger. I knew he recognized who was behind me. I was suddenly shoved to the left. Staggering only for a moment, I made for Lance, who was now leaning against a car, holding his head. After a step, I was overcome with dizziness. I swayed for a moment, before fixing myself and continuing over to Lance.

  “Are you okay?” I asked in a breathless whisper.