All American Boys

Chapter 16: The Binding of Isaac

"He did what?" Emily asked. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

We had stopped at a red light. Emily had offered to carpool to school together on Tuesday when school reopened, since our lessons ended at the same time. I had nothing on that afternoon as well, so we could go home together. And as usual, the moment I stepped into her Cadillac, she started shooting questions at me. To save her breath asking question after question, I told her everything.

"Yeah, he just up and disappeared," I shrugged. "I don't know how to feel about that. Feels like a scumbag thing to do."

"Maybe he felt awkward about what happened at the party," Emily said. "As messy and complicated as that was."

"Yeah, and I had plans to talk things out with him," I replied, folding my arms. "Guess who ruined those."

"Well whatever you do," she told me. "I hope you stay civil."

We were approaching the intersection between Lavender and Ellesmere. Within a few moments, as per routine, Emily would switch to the farthest lane to prepare to turn left.

"You can just go straight ahead," I told her.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "It's Lavender Street, you know?"

"Yeah," I grunted in reply. "I'm over it."

Emily stayed silent as we crossed the threshold that used to be there – that intersection between Ellesmere and Lavender. That boundary that used to separate me from the fateful events of that afternoon a year ago. Emily even lowered the volume of the radio as we drove past that exact spot.

But this time, unlike the time on the bus with Isaac, I never closed my eyes. On the contrary, I stared straight at it. Right at that blue mailbox in front of the convenience store. The pavement had been scrubbed clean and the mailbox given a fresh coat of paint. Where her lifeless body lay was now an empty spot by the street. It was if it never happened.

"So, what are you gonna do when you see Cyril?" Emily asked once we were well past that stretch of Lavender Street. "He was looking quite sad and dejected after you left. Well, I didn't even know you'd left until I asked him where you were."

"Well you were too busy getting Aaron drunk," I rolled my eyes at her.

"Which turned out to be a mistake since him and yours truly ended up fighting and we saw how well that went," she replied. "Well, with concern to you at least."

That just confirmed my suspicion that Aaron was the one who got into the fight with Isaac. It was the first time I learned about what happened at the party, since no one told me anything, so I pressed Emily for more.

"So who started the fight?" I asked as we approached the parking lot.

"Well, you know how your boyfriend can get with that loose tongue of his," Emily replied. "And when he's drunk it gets so much worse."

"Ugh," I groaned. "Tell me about it."

I immediately remembered that incident in the hallway when he told me I should just 'get over' Alicia's death before being punched square in the jaw. Well good to know that classic Isaac still hasn't changed.

Asshole.

"Basically he went up in Aaron's face and told him that the Beauchamps were nothing but a bunch of leeches or something like that -well, which is honestly true if you ask me- but of course Aaron wasn't having any of it," Emily told me.

"So Aaron squared him in the jaw like Cyril did?" I guessed.

"Well, not yet," she continued. "Shoshana saw these two boys staring at each other like two animals, so she went up to them and tried to get your dear Isaac away from there. And honestly I admire her, I wonder how she puts up with that boy."

"I wonder that as well," I remarked as I fidgeted with my nails.

"Well anyway, Aaron replied something along the lines of 'if you're looking for leeches there's one standing right next to you' and that's when the punches started flying I guess," she added. "They kind of lunged at each other and started going all ham. I remembered Isaac tripping over the coffee table or something, then Aaron knocked him out. Some of the football guys had to separate them."

"That sounds pretty brutal," I said.

"Sure was," she replied. "But you still haven't answered my question, sweetheart. What are you going to do with Cyril?"

Right. Cyril. That was another problem I had to deal with. He never texted or gave me a call ever since the party. Well, if I wouldn't blame him. If I were him I'd probably be giving me some space. Or stay away from me. In general I'd leave me alone because I wouldn't know how to deal with someone who just ditched me.

Oh wait, I do.

But at least I had the courtesy to tell Cyril. Sure, we were in the middle of something but oh well. I'm sure things were going to be awkward for a while, but I doubt he had any reason to be angry at me. Or at least I hoped so.

"Anyway," I said as Emily parked her car. "What's up with you and Aaron?"

The young woman only tilted her head slightly and smiled.

"There's no harm attaching myself to the son of the police chief," she said with that hallmark smirk of hers. "You might even thank me later. Who knows what I can find out? Given the affinity of the Beauchamps to the Crayfords. Pretty sure there's plenty of dirty secrets around."

"Ah, that's so you," I chuckled, rolling my eyes. "Lemme guess, you and Aaron. . ."

I turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

"God no," she replied, shaking her head as the preposterous suggestion. "I would never."

"Yeah I know," I said. "I'm just teasing."

Emily rolled her eyes as she took out the foldable mirror from her purse. Of course she wouldn't. Emily may be a sly and crafty but she would never compromise on her no-sex-before-marriage doctrine. Honestly, it was quite admirable. She's dated a few guys before but she told me they've never done anything.

In a town that shrouds itself in a false fear of God and a facetious religiosity, Emily was probably one of them who actually lived up to the virtues that were preached – as flawed as she was. When the sly, Machiavellian Emily could be held up as an example of good faith, it says a lot.

"Anyway, for the last time," she repeated as she pulled up into an empty lot. "What are you going to do when you meet Cyril? I am not going to repeat myself again so you better give me a proper answer."

"I don't know actually," I replied, shrugging. "Pretend it didn't happen I guess?"

"Gosh," the young woman groaned, shaking her head. "Yeah as if that's going to help."

I sighed.

"Yeah," I said, cracking my knuckles. "That's another conversation I'll need to have. Hopefully it'll go better than the one. You know, the one which I was about to tell a certain asshole that I only liked him and that me and Cyril is just an act but if he doesn't want to listen to me and prefer to run anytime he sees me then that's his loss."

"Well, someone's angry," Emily giggled as she placed her mirror back into her purse.

"I mean, who wouldn't be," I groaned as I stepped out of the car. "I got punched in the face because of him."

Emily locked her car and walked up to me. I saw her inspecting the bruise on my cheekbone.

"That looks bad," she said.

"It was worse yesterday," I told her. "It's not swelling as much and it's getting better."

"That's good," she replied.

As we walked towards the school I noticed the yellow two-seater swerving recklessly into an empty lot.

"Look who it is," Emily said as we walked down the parking lot, past parked cars and kids hanging out.

As we approached that yellow sports car, I noticed the young man sitting in the driver's seat, using his phone. His window was rolled down, and that was when I got an idea.

I had brought his clothes from the other day, and had planned to pass them on to Shoshana, but I had a better idea.

Maybe it's because I forgot my coffee, or maybe I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Or maybe it's because I was tired, stressed and irritated after the events of the past few days. I wasn't usually like that, but that morning I was feeling extremely confrontational.

I unzipped my bag, grabbing the freshly dried and ironed shirt and shorts that yours truly had left at my place. I even had to lie to my mom that it had just bought it at a sale after she noticed them folded on the ironing board.

"Good morning jerk," I greeted him snarkily as I pulled out his clothes and tossed them through his window. "Your laundry is here. Back from Sawyer Laundromat. Free of charge!"

"Wha-" he cried out as the clothes hit his face. "What's wrong with you?"

He turned to face me as he swatted the clothes off his steering wheel. His eyes widened when he realised who it was.

"I can ask you the same thing," I said, leaning against his window.

I stuck my head in, such that he was staring right into my face.

"Alex," he said, leaning back, trying to get away from me as he fumbled around with his seatbelt. "Wh-what are you doing? Get out man!"

"How else am I going to get to talk to you?" I shot back. "You're just going to run away again."

"Okay, okay!" the young man relented. "Just. . . Get in, alright?"

"You're not going to lock me out are you?" I said, slowly pulling out, but still leaving my hands in just in case. "Promise me."

"Yeah," he said uneasily, gulping. "Just get in."

Satisfied, I finally pulled out of his personal space and walked over to the passenger seat. I nodded to Emily, who smiled and just walked away. Her eyes wished me luck, and I silently thanked her.

Opening the door, I sat myself in the passenger seat. We were alone now, just Isaac and I.

"I know, I know," Isaac said as he fidgeted with his fingers. "I'm a jerk."

"Glad you realised that, asshat," I replied, flashing him a sweet smile.

"I'm sorry for kissing that girl," he said, finally daring to face me. "I just- I didn't know you were gonna be there and I-"

The young man sighed.

"Truth is," he shrugged. "I just felt so horrible after you rejected me and I only went to the party to get shitface drunk and. . . It was a mistake. I'm so sorry."

Well, I wouldn't say it, but a small part of me was quite appreciative of his apology. But I wasn't angry about the kiss as much as I was about him jumping out of my window and leaving me without a word.

"Thanks, but that's not what I'm so angry about," I said, folding my arms. "I really don't think it's very nice when I've brought your drunk ass to my house, got punched in the face by yours truly, wash your clothes for you and you just jump out of my window and run off without a word."

Isaac sighed and buried his face in his palms.

"I know, I know," he replied. "I shouldn't have done that. I-I was just so scared to face you."

"Well you can't keep running away from your problems Isaac," I said.

The young man only turned to look at me with his sad green eyes. He seemed like he wanted to apologise again, but he didn't. He probably didn't want to irritate me by repeating himself over and over again.

"Look, about that kiss," I said, finally beginning to address it. "It's alright. You could kiss whoever you wanted, we're not together."

There was a short silence, yet Isaac kept looking at me.

"But. . ." the young man replied. "I saw the hurt in your eyes and-"

"The truth is I like you Isaac," I interrupted him, finally confessing what I've always wanted to say. "I really do, and I wish we could be together."

"Then what's with you and Cyril?" Isaac asked, confused. "You're kind of together aren't you?"

"Well," I replied, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. "Not officially, but yeah. Him and I are. . . A thing."

"I don't get it," he said. "Yeah, and I know I'm not good at this love thing and all but. . . If you don't like him, why are you with him?"

He asked me the question that I had been preparing myself to answer. Looking at me with his green eyes, he asked it directly and honestly – just like a child.

"It's complicated," I muttered under my breath.

There was a short silence between us. I had rehearsed it in my mind so many times, but now that it came to this very moment, I froze. Isaac just shrugged dejectedly.

"You know," he said, disappointment in his eyes. "If it all amounts to that kind of answer, then I'm sorry but I don't have anything else to say to you."

"Wait," I cut him off just as he was reaching for the door. "Please listen to me. I'll tell you everything."

The young man raised an eyebrow, but remained in his seat.

"I hope you don't hate me for this," I began nervously. "But I'm just pretending to actually like Cyril."

The young man only narrowed his eyes at me.

"Yeah, I know it doesn't make sense, but hear me out," I said, nearly pleading for him to hold on and listen to what I had to say. "Look, it's about Alicia's murder."

"Wait what?" Isaac said, more confused than ever.

I wouldn't blame him.

"I'm looking for an opportunity – for an opening, sort of," I tried to explain. "I'm getting close to him so I can find something that I can use against his father."

There was a short silence as Isaac stared long and hard at the steering wheel in front of him, processing what I said. I guess it was quite something for him to take in. He finally turned to me, his lips parting.

"So that means," he began. "You feel the same way towards me?"

I didn't know whether to be relieved or to be disappointed that it was all that he took from what I've said. But looking into his green eyes, I found my disappointment and the weight on my shoulders slipping away. Those green eyes of his – they were smiling, even more so than the wide, child-like grin on his lips.

"Yes," I admitted, feeling my heart thump in my chest. "Yes, I like you Isaac."

I wanted to turn away, to break off eye contact to get away from the awkwardness, yet I found myself getting lost in those pretty eyes of his. The young man shifted in his seat, inching closer and closer towards me.

Many thoughts ran through my head as my heart raced. What if someone saw us? What if Cyril found out? I was scared, and I nearly told him to stop, to break it off, to find another time and place for this. But I didn't.

Instead, I closed my eyes as I felt his soft lips against mine. I felt my shoulders relax as I tossed those inhibitions I had out of the window. Pushing against him, our tongues lapped against each other, until I found myself entering his mouth. I put my hand on his jaw and tilted his chin up towards me as I become nothing more than a marionette to my desires. I felt Isaac fall back and submit to me as I pressed myself up to him.

Climbing out of my seat and over the armrest, I found myself on top of Isaac. As I pushed him against the rest of his seat, I started to move away from his lips. I didn't know what overcame me, but I latched my lips on a patch of skin on his neck and sucked hard. Isaac let out a moan as he slipped his hand under my shirt, running his palm across my stomach.

"Ah, shit," he moaned as I made my way down, my lips sucking hard to his smooth skin, leaving reddened bruises. "It hurts Alex."

"Don't act like you don't like it you horny bitch," I growled as I pulled away.

His eyes widened, but soon I could see them look at me with the very same desire I had for him.

"Hurt me as much as you like," he whimpered as he began to grind against me. "Shit, I don't even know who you are right now."

And he was. I could feel his erection prodding through his sweatpants. My jeans were starting to feel a little tight as well. I wanted to bend him over right then and there and shove it in and make him cry, but I knew I couldn't. It was too risky. But heaven knows I wanted to watch him whimper underneath me.

"Don't hold yourself back," he said -no, begged, panting as beads of sweat dripped down his cheeks. "The side windows are tinted. No one can see us."

I never realised I was this kind of person until that moment. Watching the young man telling me to hurt him, seeing him moan underneath me awakened some carnal desire within me. I liked him and I wanted him, but now I did so in ways I had never imagined before.

As I pinned his wrists against the seat, I went in for another kiss. We were sweaty and all worked up, the both of us breathing heavily between kisses. But then in that moment as I nuzzled against his neck and planted pecks over his bruises I knew. I knew that it was him that I wanted. And him alone.