In trust we fall, p.5
In Trust We Fall, page 5
I make it about a block before I realize the heat is even worse than I thought. It is back way too soon this year. We should’ve had another month or so before it was this unbearable. I decide to duck into the little restaurant on the corner coming up and get myself a drink for the walk home. I slip my arm out of my backpack strap on one side so I can pull it around to the front of me and dig around in the smallest pocket. I find three single dollars rolling around in there. That’s enough. I shove everything back in and readjust my backpack as I step onto the walkway to the store.
There are a few people from the school inside when I pull the door open. I don’t know those kids, not by name, but I recognize a few of the faces and I definitely recognize the emblem on the t-shirt two of the boys are wearing. Football players, likely. Great, just what I need. I make it my mission to get to the counter as quickly as possible. I order myself the lemon-lime soda which always seems more refreshing even though it’s just as sugar-packed as the darker stuff, and stand off to the side to wait for it.
I hear the boys at the table laugh a little and I take a deep breath. I assume they’re laughing at me. One of them probably recognized me from school. Or they just like making fun of all the people they see out in the real world who aren’t as fit as them. Who knows? It’s not worth my time or energy so I’m not asking.
The lady approaches the counter and hands me my drink. I take it with a grateful smile and hustle back towards the door I came in.
I’m being so careful not to look up at the football table that I literally almost crash into a man coming in the door. He holds out his hands. “Whoa, in a hurry there young lady?”
“Shit, sorry. I wasn’t watching where I …” My voice trails off because this guy is cute. He’s a little taller and a little older than me, but not too much of either. He has these dark eyes that almost seem to sparkle with something that makes me think of starry nights by a campfire. He’s dressed in all black, which matches his striking hair. The entire look just screams “I belong on a TV show.” Then his whole face breaks out in a smile and I swear to everything holy I feel like I’m melting right there in the cheap, shitty little restaurant.
“You’re good,” he says. “You didn’t run into me.” He leans down toward me and winks. An actual wink. “At least, not yet.” Then he straightens back up. “You need anything before I step out of your way?”
“What? No.” I stutter, distracted by this adorable specimen.
“If you say so.” He takes a step to his left and holds out his right hand like an invitation for me to glide by him. I risk a glance at the amount of room he’s left. Even if I turn sideways there’s no way I am getting between him and the little hightop table next to him. I blush and turn sideways anyway so I’m fully facing him as I try to make my way between them. I feel the table cut into my back and he is so close. Like too close, almost. He whispers, “Are you sure there’s nothing you need? No desires? No deep wishes?”
“What?” I mutter, pausing. “That’s a weird fucking thing to say.”
He laughs and the sound is soft, his breath passing by my cheek. “Everyone needs a favor sometimes. Maybe something at school you were hoping for.”
A strange feeling climbs my spine. Who is this guy? Doesn’t it sort of sound like he’s implying he knows about the contest? But he can’t, right? I shake my head. “No way, I’m good. I don’t take random offers of help winning school contests from some stranger at a fast food place.” I make my way past him and keep my eyes firmly focused on the main door of the restaurant. “I’m good, but thanks.”
“So there is something,” he calls. His voice is so sugar-sweet that I can’t help but turn my head a little toward it. It’s enough to see that beautiful face again. The eyes practically pull my attention to him. He winks again. “Are you sure I can’t be of some assistance?”
I throw all my energy into a laugh, making it sound as deep as possible. I don’t know what’s going on with this guy but I intend to prove to him that I think he’s ridiculous. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” I roll my eyes and cross the distance to the door. I push it open and throw one last look behind me. He’s still there, still watching me, those eyes still sparkling. I shake my head. “Weirdo.”
Then I’m back outside, trying to forget that entire interaction. Those guys from school saw that too, right? None of them thought it was strange enough to warrant a quick interruption.
I stop walking as the realization rushes over me. They put him up to it. Those dickheads got some sexy stranger to creep me out. They’re probably friends of Sofia’s or something. Maybe they just wanted to mess with me. I resume walking, determined to let it go. If this was a prank I refuse to let those assholes know it worked by showing my fear. I will write it off as a prank and let it go.
***
“How was your evening?” Erik asks the next morning as he falls into step beside me at the corner on my way to school.
I roll my eyes. “Totally boring. Yours?”
He shrugs. “Fine. Mom made some new recipe and it was practically inedible. Couldn’t bring myself to tell her though.” He holds up a plastic bag. “Remind me to tell her I lost this somewhere and throw it in the first available dumpster.”
I laugh. “Oh, I didn’t even tell you about the walk home. I stopped for a soda, right?”
“Sounds legit.”
“There were some football players there and they talked some total stranger into this weird thing where he offered me some help with a problem.”
Erik’s facial expression is more fitting for someone trying to understand a foreign language than my best friend trying to understand what I’m telling him happened. “What the hell are you talking about?” he says. “Back up.”
“Some guy came up to me at the store and asked me what I needed his help with. I don’t remember how he worded it, just that it was super weird. I said I didn’t need help and he asked if there wasn’t something at school that I was hoping for. Something like that. He knew about it. They had to have told him, right?”
“What makes you think these particular guys are the ones that put this stranger up to something?”
I shrug. “They were there. Wouldn’t they want to see the results of their little prank first-hand?”
“So they were talking to him before and he walked up to you?”
I think back and shake my head. “No, he came in the door just before we ran into each other.”
“When would they have put him up to this?” Erik asks. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s not buying this. Honestly, saying it out loud makes me realize how weak it is. But why else would that total stranger have talked to me at all, never mind offered me some kind of sketchy deal? No, they had to have put him up to it.
I wave my hand in the air like I’m swatting away his doubts. “Whatever, I don’t know all the details but I know they did this. It was stupid and immature which is totally them. I just need to make sure I don’t let them know it bothered me.”
Erik can’t think of anything to say to that so he falls quiet. He stays that way, focusing on his footsteps and not talking about anything, all the way to school. When we step onto campus, he bumps me with his arm. “When did you have time for that?” he asks, pointing.
I turn my attention to the object, which appears to be a large pink poster with a gorgeous freehand outline drawing of my face on it. I step closer and read the text at the top of the poster. “Vote for Alice and bring a healthy focus to our PE curriculum” it boldly states. I turn around to Erik, my mouth agape. “I did not do this,” I tell him. “You did, right?”
“Do I look like I knew to expect these?” he asks. He does not. He looks as shocked as I feel.
I turn to the picture again. Over my shoulder, Erik must be doing the same because he points to it. “Who drew this? It’s fucking amazing.”
“I have no idea.” My voice comes out sort of breathy because I’m still trying to process what I’m seeing. The artwork looks original like someone drew it with pencils and just put it on the pink poster. It’s all lines and shading, no color. It is unmistakably me but, also, beautiful. Trust me, that is not a word I use to describe myself often. But something about the way I’m looking off into the distance captures this focus that just looks amazing. “Do I look like that?” I ask, turning my head to match the pose.
Erik looks from me to the poster and back again repeatedly. “Completely. It’s so amazing. I can’t believe you don’t know who did this.” He slaps me on the shoulder. “Oh my God, could it be the guy who offered you help? Could he have done this?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, of course. Why didn’t I think of that? The guy I met for eight point three seconds yesterday was able to sketch me from memory and have posters of it made then rush down to our school, even though I didn’t tell him what school we attended, and hang them up. All of this was done overnight.”
“I suppose it’s ridiculous.” He sighs. “Whatever, someone did this. We need to put our energy into finding out who.”
“Fine,” I agree. “Ask around today. See if anyone recognizes the art or knows where these posters came from. We’ll report back on our walk home.”
***
By the end of the day, I’ve concluded exactly one thing: no one knows where the hell those posters came from. No one recognizes the art, although a lot of people comment on how amazing it is. Everyone assumes I put them up and seems confused when I say I didn’t. I’m pretty sure a few people even think I’m lying about putting them up. “Tell me you’ve got something,” I say when I see Erik walking up to me after school.
“Nothing. Rumor is that you did it yourself or that I did it and lied to you about it.”
“That’s still my theory,” I joke.
Erik rolls his eyes and starts in the direction of our houses. “I don’t have the kind of money you’d have to dump into a printing project like that,” he points out. “Someone told me it’s expensive to print posters that large and there’s tons of them all over campus.”
“Did you see the one in the cafeteria?” I ask. “I think it’s larger than the ones in the hallways.”
“I don’t even know where to print those,” Erik says. “Honest.”
“I know.” I bump him with my shoulder. “I trust you. This is just weird, right?”
“Really, really weird,” he agrees.
We walk in silence for a bit. I’m not sure what Erik is thinking about but I am, for sure, trying to figure out this weird puzzle. Eventually, Erik cues me back into reality by clearing his throat. “I need a drink,” he says. He points at the same restaurant where I stopped yesterday.
I freeze right there on the sidewalk because the guy from yesterday is also standing there, reclining against a handicapped parking sign with his hands shoved deep into his pockets like he’s waiting for me. Erik, who hasn’t stopped, has to turn around and come back a few steps to catch back up to me. He looks concerned. “What?” he prompts.
“That’s the guy from yesterday.” I point, not caring if I offend him by talking about him.
“No shit?” Erik looks and then whips his head back to me. “That hot guy is the guy from yesterday? Did you mention he was gorgeous? I feel like you left that out.”
“Focus.” I take a deep breath. “Let’s go talk to him. You’ll see how weird he is. You’ll see what I meant.” I don’t wait for Erik to agree or argue. Instead, I stomp off in the direction of the restaurant with renewed purpose.
The guy pushes off the pole and smiles when I’m closer, confirming that he was, indeed, waiting for me. “Back again,” he calls when I’m close enough to hear him. I keep walking until I am right up in his space. “I figured you’d be by today to thank me for what I’d done,” he says.
“Who drew that picture?” I ask, cocking my hip to the side and planting my hand on it. I’m trying my hardest to look relaxed like this is no big thing. Really, my heart is pounding. Is it possible this guy did this in one night? It’s not, right? But, still, something is telling me that is exactly what happened. He’s responsible.
He smiles. “You like it?”
“I don’t understand why you did it.”
He winks, just like yesterday. “We had a deal. You need this from me now and I will come back later to collect a favor as payment.”
“What?” I shake my head. “No, no way. I never said anything about a favor. Who the hell are you anyway?”
Erik lays a hand on my arm and pulls me back. His hand shoots into the space between us and the stranger. “I’m Erik,” he offers. “I don’t think we met.”
The man takes the offered hand and gives it a single pump up and down. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
“Great. Why don’t you lay out the terms of this favor for us both so that no one can accuse you later of being some kind of trickster? No secrets. Are you saying you put up campaign posters to help my friend here win her award?”
The man gives Erik only the briefest glance before his eyes are back on my face. “She needed something that I am capable of providing.”
“Yeah, see, that’s not really an answer,” Erik pushes. Again, he puts his hand on my arm and pulls. Again, I take a step back. “You’re being deceptive on purpose. Did you do this?”
The wink again. “Perhaps.”
“Close enough,” Erik says. “So I’m assuming you did this. What did you want in return?”
“As I said, the win now for a favor later.”
“No, that’s not how this works,” Erik says. “You say out loud right now what Alice’s part of the deal is or we’re out. We aren’t working with a trickster.”
He leans closer, so his face is dangerously close to mine. “Oh, but you are. It’s already begun,” he whispers.
“No,” I yell. He snaps his head back to its proper location. “I never agreed to anything. I laughed in your face. This is not happening.” I gesture between us. “Whatever you think I agreed to is not happening. I’ll pay you for the posters if I have to but this ends now.”
“Are you sure? Think carefully, child. That win is not guaranteed. You’re taking chances. I can remove the doubt for you.”
This has gone on long enough. I turn my upper body toward the restaurant. “Why are we standing here listening to this whack job?” I ask. “Let’s go inside. This is not happening.” I force out a sort of laugh.
“Stop laughing,” Erik says, pulling back on my arm again. “This is how people end up losing deals with the devil and dying or something.”
I think of that old country song about dealing with the devil then turn my head so they can both see me roll my eyes. “Maybe I’ll win a fiddle.” I yank my arm away from Erik and take a step toward the door. “Let’s go. This is done.”
“You have to be clear,” Erik says. “No gray areas. Guys like this thrive in gray areas.”
I throw my hands up and groan. “Fine.” I stomp the few steps back to the guy so that we’re face to face again. “Look, I want to win but I want to win honestly because my project is good. I don’t want to win with backhanded deals. No deal. Sorry I was confusing yesterday. I’m being clear today. We do not have a deal. You hear me? No. Deal.”
He nods once, a slow sort of nod that somehow feels weightier than a regular nod. “Clear enough.” Then he snaps his fingers. “Our agreement is dissolved.”
I stop myself from saying we didn’t have an agreement because that seems counterproductive at this point. Instead, I grab Erik and pull him into the restaurant. I don’t stop directing him until we’re at the counter. Then I let go. “What the hell was that?” Erik asks.
“I’m not sure if I want to know,” I say. “Let’s just forget about this and hope it all goes back to normal.”
Erik looks skeptical but nods. “Yeah, ok. I’ll try.”
***
The rest of the month does, in fact, go by smoothly. The posters remain but slowly start to fall off or come down. At least, I assume that’s what is happening because I see less and less of them. Things are so normal for so long that I almost forget about the weird interactions at the restaurant. Almost.
Our speeches in front of the student body go well. A lot of people seem to like what I say about my project, some even nod along. Honestly, Sofia’s sounds good too. She’s obviously put a lot of time and effort into it. If I didn’t want to win so badly, I’d want her plan.
Just as our principal is explaining the voting process, I notice he’s in the audience. The cute guy from the restaurant. Cold sweat breaks out on my arms. Is he here for me? Is there something I forgot to say or do? Was I not clear?
Oh my God, what if Sofia took him up on the offer? Is she about to win because of some underhanded deal with this guy? I try to remember if I’ve seen any posters for her that seem a bit beyond what you can make yourself. I can’t think of any.
The principal dismisses everyone and I make a straight line to the stranger. “Why are you here?” I hiss. “Are you working with her?”
He laughs and the sound is somehow terrifying. When he stops, he looks down at me with another wink. “No. She never needed me. You were right about that. You didn’t stand a chance but not for the reason you thought. Her proposal was better, it was always that simple.”
“So why are you here?” I repeat. “I was clear, I don’t want your help.”
“Oh, it’s too late for that now. I can admit when I was beaten. I wanted to swindle you, catch you when you needed something, and make it worth my time. You were right to trust yourself and that friend of yours.” He takes a step back from me and crosses his arms. The gesture makes him look distant, somehow, like he’s fading into the background. “If you ever decide you’ll pay any cost for something, you know where to find me.” His voice is so quiet now. “I’ll be at the corner of your darkest thoughts and your most desperate times, waiting.”
“Alice,” a voice calls. I think it’s Sofia.
