Broken Records

by Cassie Mae

  Even though I’ve walked this sidewalk a million times, I still stop to admire the wall of gum that’s been a staple to the town for as long as I can remember.

  My eyes travel over a pink happy face, then to a green peace sign. It’s kind of artistic in a way. I guess.

  A hard bump to my shoulder takes me by surprise and sends me off balance. A blur of black whizzes by as I stumble into the wall. I regain my footing and let my eyes focus on the retreating figure.

  “Excuse you!” I call out to the boy in the black hoodie. He comes to a skidding halt with his large shoulders hunched and hands jammed into his pockets, and my heart plummets to the depths of my stomach. Oh God why did he stop? Me and my big mouth.

  Barney always tells me to be careful. Surrounded by a brick wall on one side and a cast iron fence on the other, I’m stuck. If this guy is a psycho my only option is to run back to my car and hope to God I beat him there.

  I’m not going to wait and find out. I place my foot behind me, ready to run like heck when he turns. All those self-defense classes, and they never once told us what to do when fight or flight is no longer an option because you’re too petrified to even blink.

  He moves towards me, and my legs suddenly become heavy weights. A black curl falls onto his forehead, and he meets my gaze, giving me a glimpse of his copper colored eyes. Beautiful eyes filled with sadness and despair. I take in the rest of his face, following the lines of his jaw to his swollen split lip. I’m sure if he had to choose, it would be to fight.

  A chill of terror crawls up my spine. Maybe if I scream loud enough Barney will hear me.

  His tongue swipes at the wound. “Sorry,” he mumbles, then he tightens his hood and continues on his way.

  My heart slams back into place, and I gasp for air, thanking my lucky stars I didn’t just become another dead girl on the ten o’clock news.

  As soon as I get my act together, I run down the concrete steps and into the church basement, shut the door, and move away from it as quick as possible. I take comfort in the scent of bleach because it means Barney is close by.

  I shake the remaining fear away and walk around the counter. Barney is body deep in the fridge—the only thing visible are his designer jeans and loafers. I knock on the open door, and he jumps, rag in hand and a spray bottle in the other.

  “Anna, darling. A smile spreads across his tanned face.

  “Hey,” I say as he places a kiss on each cheek. “I’m here to sign up.”

  He rolls his dark eyes and rests his hands on either side of his waist. “I don’t know why you bother. You know Stan and I have your name on the list. It’s always at the top.”

  I playfully push his shoulder. “Fine, you caught me. I just wanted an excuse to see you two. Where is that handsome man of yours?”

  “At home with Leonardo.”

  I rack my brain trying to recall one of their friends, a neighbor, relative, but no recollection of a Leonardo. “Who?”

  Barney grabs my hand and gives it a playful shake, a huge smile spreading wide across his clean-shaven face. “We adopted a puppy!”

  “No! You?” I put my hand on my chest as if this news just changed my world completely. “You hate animals.”

  “I don’t hate them. They’re just dirty little things. But not Leonardo. He’s the cutest little terrier mix that doesn’t shed.”

  I laugh.

  “No really he is the cutest. Look.” Barney pulls out his phone and shows me three hundred and twenty-two pictures with the little guy.

  “How long have you had him?”

  “A week.”

  “And only three hundred pictures?” I joke.

  “So I got a little carried away.”

  “A little?”

  “Oh you stop that. “He swats his hand at me. “Do you have anywhere to be?”

  “I’m free for a couple hours.”

  “Good. I have so much to do and only a few days to do it. Plus we have a lot of catching up, so grab a stack of napkins and come sit.

  I plop down at the large folding table set up for the buffet line and start wrapping napkins around forks and knives.

  “How’s your mom been?”

  Barney being Dad’s college roommate and Mom’s best friend, he’s been there since the day I was born. It’s still weird that he has to ask me about her. There was a point in time when Barney was at our house for every Sunday dinner. Until the Sunday dinners stopped and Mom started pushing everyone away.

  “The last time I saw her, she seemed okay,” I respond.

  Concern tugs at the corner of his eyes. “When was that?”

  I take a minute to think about it. “What’s today? Wednesday?” I ask and Barney nods. “Then it was...Friday.”

  Displeasure streaks across his face. “I don’t like you in that house by yourself. Your father wouldn’t like it much either.”

  My heart aches at the mention of Dad. No matter how much time passes it doesn’t get any easier. Every time I think about him I’m right back in my living room, finding out I’ll never see him again.

  I can’t change the past, but I don’t have to accept it either. Mom on the other hand chooses to run from it, leaving me alone most of the time while she’s off looking for antiques. My brother, Seth is no better. As soon as he turned eighteen he took off for college and hasn’t been back since. Though, he still checks in from time to time.

  “Why don’t you tell her that?” I mutter.

  “Oh honey, I’ve tried. That woman is as stubborn as the day I met her.” Barney offers a sympathetic smile then pushes his fingers into the bridge of his nose and rubs. “So how’s school going? Any acceptance letters yet?”

  I tuck a stray brown strand behind my ear. “It’s good. I won’t find out till December or January.” Not that it keeps me from checking the mailbox every day.

  “Then you need to keep your mind off it. What’s new in the dating department?”

  I roll my eyes. “You know I don’t have time for that.”

  Barney drops the fork he’s holding. “Oh honey please. There’s always time for a little romance.”

  He arches his brow, and I throw a napkin at him. “Don’t point that eyebrow at me.”

  He wiggles it, and another napkin flies in his direction.

  “Just because you and Stan are all hearts and sunshine doesn’t mean that’s the case for everyone else.”

  “Of course it is!” Barney exclaims. He gets the glossy sympathetic look in his eyes before resting his hand on mine. “Anna, I just want to see you happy.”

  “I don’t need a guy to make me happy. This is the twenty first century. Independent women are kind of a thing.”

  He crosses his arms. “I was an independent woman for years and let me tell you, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s nice to have someone to share in your happiness, help carry the burden of your sadness. It was great to claim independence, but it was a very lonely place.”

  There’s nothing but truth in his words. I may have more on my schedule than most, and never a moment of downtime, but even though I’m always busy, constantly with people, I always feel completely alone.

  Even if I did have time I wouldn’t know the first thing to do. I’ve never been on a date. I’m not exactly Miss Popularity and guys aren’t lining up to ask me out. Dating and I are like peanut butter and tofu. They just don’t go together.

  Ask me to cite the names of all forty-three presidents, piece of cake. Want to know every element on the periodic table and their atomic number, you got it. Test me on the works of Shakespeare and Euripides, and I’ll ace it. But question me on guys and dating? You might as well slap an F on my forehead and call it a day.

  “Do you have any more pictures of Leonardo?” I ask, willing to subject myself to five hundred more images of his dog rather than talk about my lacking love life.

  “Of course. I didn’t show the pictures of us at the park.”

  “Bring them on,” I say relieved.

>   When I don’t think my hands can roll another napkin, or my eyes can look at another picture, I give Barney a double cheek kiss and say goodbye.

  The sun has set, leaving the sky completely black. With Barney it’s easy to lose track of time since he never runs out of things to talk about. Unfortunately for me, without the sun, the temperature has dropped about ten degrees. My thin cardigan is no match for the crisp autumn night. I pull it across my chest and make a mental note to wear my jacket tomorrow.

  After one quick scan of the sidewalk I pick up speed. I don’t want another encounter with a mysterious stranger, so I keep my eyes straight ahead. Every leaf that crunches underfoot sends a nervous chill up my spine. Every shadow fuels my fear until I’m practically running down the path.

  When my car finally comes into view, I’m full on sprinting. I’m scared, but also freezing. The brisk autumn wind whips my partially grown-out bangs into my eyes, impairing my vision. I swipe the hair out of my face just as I’m about to walk right into my bumper.

  My cold fingers tremble as I fight with the door handle. Once in, I slam the door and smack the locks.

  Note to self: Need more than a jacket tomorrow. Bring gloves too.

  I put the car into drive, but before I get too much pressure on the gas I slam on my brakes, my body bobbing forward. The seatbelt tightens across my chest and forces me back against the soft leather. My darn bangs flop in my face again, and I whack them away. The headlights shine brightly at someone in a dark hoodie, his arm shielding his face, inches from my bumper.

  My heart batters my chest as I try to take slow steadying breaths. I need to make sure he’s okay so I reach for my seatbelt. But before I can unlatch it, he drops his arm and I’m met with the same copper eyes as before.