Читать книгу Lasting Impressions - John Schlarbaum - Страница 10

After disposing of Frank, Edward and Mark returned to Mark's house to drink. With his parents away on vacation, they wouldn't be disturbed.

"You sure gave it to Frank," Mark said. "He's such a dickhead. Of all the role models to choose from in this world he picks Jeremy Atkins. What a loser!"

"Especially when he could better his miserable life by choosing me," Edward laughed. "Actually, can we not talk about Jeremy, unless it's to plot his demise?"

"What demise?"

Edward ambled to the fridge and grabbed two beers. "The demise we're going to plot tonight," he said, placing a bottle in front of Mark.

"Is this about what happened this afternoon?"

"Do you know why I punched Frank in the gut?" Edward asked, changing topics.

"No."

"It was because of his blind devotion to Jeremy, who would have continued to ignore him if he didn't need Frank's help to boost his calculus marks. I was knocking some wisdom into him." Edward's fingers tightened around the neck of his beer bottle. "What about you? Where do you stand? Are you with me or not?"

Sink or swim, Mark thought. Do or die. The time for a life changing decision was upon him. "I'm in."

"I figured," Edward said, "because you're like me - striving to be something bigger in this one horse town, but being led by the nose by Jeremy Atkins. He thinks he's the best thing this place has to offer. We know differently."

"And this has zilch to do with you finding Jeremy and your ex-girlfriend making out?" Mark asked.

"Maybe a little," Edward replied with a sly smile.

During movie night a few months earlier, Edward had offered to go on a snack run. Once outside, he decided to look back through the living room window, thinking of knocking on it to scare his best friend and his new girlfriend, Sharona. Instead, he got the shock of his life when he saw them kissing on the couch he'd recently vacated.

Back in the house a few moments later, he found the two separated with Jeremy back on the loveseat.

"Did you forget your wallet?" Jeremy had asked casually. "I can give you a few bucks if you need it."

"I think I have some money in my purse too," Sharona chipped in.

Edward had stared daggers at them. "I think it's best if you leave now and go to the store together. That's if you can make it there without jamming your tongues down each other's throats some more."

The final line produced the expected angry responses until Edward pointed to the window and the jig was up. In rapid succession, Sharona claimed Jeremy had forced himself on her, while he stuck with a story of testing her relationship loyalty, and that she'd failed miserably!

Edward had no idea who to believe, nor did he really care. He'd only been dating Sharona a short time and wasn't sure how serious he was about her yet. As for Jeremy . . . he always seemed to be on the prowl, no matter if he and Susan were together. After Sharona left in tears, Jeremy was close behind, still trying to justify his actions, but also asking Edward not to tell Susan what had happened. "She wouldn't understand, even though we're currently on a break."

"Whatever, Jeremy," Edward replied as he slammed the door closed behind him. "Susan deserves better," he said to the empty hallway. "Way better."

The tension between Edward and Jeremy lasted a few weeks until the idea that they were fighting because of a cheating girlfriend felt stupid. Edward still didn't know why Sharona would have done such a thing, but was glad she was gone regardless.

He didn't believe Jeremy's story for a minute, but Edward played along like all was forgotten and forgiven. As he had excised Sharona from his life, Edward would take similar steps to break away from Jeremy, however, it would be done on his terms.

The Mark & Edward Show ended unceremoniously with both passed out, exhausted and drunk from plotting Jeremy's downfall. With Mark aboard, Edward figured each side in their gang had two strong-willed individuals to do battle, which seemed only fair.

***

Frank awoke sore and angry. His stomach felt as if he'd stepped in front of a cannon, instead of Edward's fist. The scene in the parking lot had played on an endless loop in his dreams, infuriating him more.

After breakfast he decided the best way to get back at Edward and Mark was to tell Jeremy what they'd said behind his back. Luck is on my side, he told himself, as he saw Jeremy walking by on the sidewalk, sporting dark sunglasses. As Jeremy drew closer, Frank could tell he was in pretty rough shape.

"Hey, Jeremy, tough night?" Frank asked. "With your parents away, you and Susan must have had a great time all alone."

"It was explosive to say the least," Jeremy shot back. "Please leave Susan's name out of any further conversation."

"Alrighty then."

"In fact," Jeremy said, "if you could not talk at all for a while, that would be great."

"Uh, sure," Frank replied.

Having walked in silence for a few minutes, it was Jeremy who spoke first.

"Frank, if you ever get a girlfriend make sure it's just for a night," Jeremy advised, as he sat to rest on the steps of a nearby church. "If you stay any longer, they'll start to expect certain things . . . and even if you don't want the same things, it doesn't matter. You'll end up giving in to them in the end. They're leeches when it comes down to it. Only good for one thing."

"Sex?"

"No - making your life miserable."

Again silence fell upon them, as Jeremy relived the previous night's escapades and Frank cursed that there'd be no way to tell Jeremy his news - not in his present state of mind.

"Look, Jeremy," Frank began, "it was a lover's quarrel, right? You've fought before. It's not like she dumped you for another guy."

"What do you know about another guy?" Jeremy exploded, grabbing Frank's shirt and pushing him onto the concrete steps. "Tell me what you know!"

"I don't know anything! I swear!"

"You're lying! Who is it? Huh? Tell me who it is or I'll smash your head into these steps!" Jeremy's sunglasses fell to the ground.

Looking at Jeremy's twisted face, for the first time Frank saw Jeremy's swollen, bloodshot eyes. It was truly the face of a psychopath ready to dismember anyone standing in his way of discovering the truth. Frank got to his feet and made a move to run but Jeremy tackled him to the ground.

"Jeremy! I don't know anything!"

"You're lying!" Jeremy pulled Frank's shocked face up to his own and glared into his watery eyes. "Tell . . . me . . . who . . . it . . . is!" Jeremy demanded. "You've got five seconds before you physically become part of this church property."

"Jeremy, get a hold of yourself," Frank begged, certain his pathetic life was nearing an end. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The words slowly began to sink in and Jeremy released his grip from Frank's shirt. When free, Frank stood unsteadily and moved several steps away.

With his head in his hands, Jeremy sat shaking on the steps. Frank had never witnessed his hero so vulnerable. But how can I feel sorry for him? It was ridiculous.

"Frank," Jeremy said, looking up. "I don't know what happened to me. I snapped. After last night, I'm a bit on edge."

"A bit?" Frank said. "You tried to kill me, Jeremy, and I don't even know why! If Susan left you for another guy, it's the first I've heard of it."

"Frank, I wasn't going to kill you."

"So I guess the scrapes on my face are imaginary?" he asked, touching a tender area of skin on one of his cheeks.

"Stop being a baby," Jeremy countered. "As for Susan and I, we haven't broken up because of another guy - not that I know of at least." Jeremy rested his throbbing head in his hands, wishing he could cease to exist.

The arrogant jerk isn’t the least bit sorry, Frank thought. "Look," he began, "I don't know what happened last night, but right here, right now, you tried to kill me! Don't you have anything to say about that?"

"If you're looking for an apology, Frank, sorry, okay? I'm still trying to sort out a bunch of stuff from last night and I flipped out." Jeremy stood and picked his sunglasses up off the grass. "If you ever have a real bad night and want to take it out on someone, stop by my place and I'll let you beat the crap out of me," he offered. "Until then, I'm heading to Burt's for some coffee and a plate of greasy bacon and eggs. Are you coming?" Frank stared back at him. "If you don't want to join me, fine - Ed and Mark probably will. From the way they're looking, I figure they're in as bad a shape as I am. Wonder what they were celebrating?"

Frank turned to see his two adversaries - the ones he'd wanted to warn Jeremy about – walking toward them.

"Jer. Frank. What's shaking?" Edward said. "You missed a great party last night."

"I was the host of my own sordid affair," Jeremy said with a forced smile.

"Oh, right. Your parents were away and you had Susan all to yourself."

"Sort of," Jeremy replied, looking in Frank's direction. "You could say it was a night I won't forget for a while."

"Where are you and Frank off to?" Mark asked.

"To get some coffee at Burt's for my hangover and help Frank with a headache that suddenly hit him."

"A headache, huh?" Edward said with a smile. "Sure it isn't a stomach ache, Frankie?"

Frank's blood pressure rose. He now empathized with what Jeremy had gone through moments earlier: the urge to lunge and throttle someone.

"No, just a headache," Frank replied, clenching his teeth.

"What were you two celebrating? From your condition, it looks like it was an all-nighter," Jeremy inquired.

"This and that," Mark said, turning to Edward. "Making plans for the new school year, that's all."

"Shouldn't I have been invited?" Jeremy began. "If it affects the group, we should all be present."

"We knew you and Susan had certain strategies of your own to work on, so we theorized a little amongst ourselves."

Jeremy ignored the comment. "Who's coming with me to Burt's? I can't stand this idle chit-chat any longer."

Looking to Mark, Edward said, "We were going to the store for some munchies."

"I'm not going to force you to come with me. If you're coming, come. If you're not, don't." Jeremy walked away, leaving the others behind. "What about you, Frank?" Jeremy asked, stopping momentarily.

"Actually . . ." Frank began.

"You better go with him, Frankie, or he'll lose all faith in you," Edward whispered.

"And he won't love you any longer," Mark added.

Frank looked to Jeremy who was waiting impatiently for a response. "I have some things to do at home," he finally replied.

"Fine!" Jeremy turned and stormed up the street.

"Now you did it. You got Jeremy mad at all of us," Edward said, as he circled Frank. "That was very bad. What kind of punishment do you think he deserves for being such a bad boy, Mark?"

"Well," Mark said, as he also began to circle Frank. "If it was my call, I think I'd administer a swift—"

"Punch in the stomach?" Edward interrupted, pulling his hand back and forcing it toward Frank's mid-section. Just before impact, he stopped, as Frank instinctively bent forward to lessen the blow.

"Nah. He's had enough punishment the last few days," Edward said, stepping away from Frank. "Yesterday he got beat up and today he upset his hero, who will probably stop talking to him altogether."

"That's if we're lucky," Mark said with a laugh.

Frank was ready to snap. He'd been physically abused by Jeremy and now had to endure verbal abuse from the two people he loathed the most. As Edward and Mark walked away taunting and teasing him, Frank felt only one emotion: unbridled hatred.

Now is the time to become my own person - not simply a stick figure in the shadow of Jeremy Atkins and his pompous pals. Frank figured with one bold act he could tarnish the reputations of all three foes.

Walking back to his house alone, Frank felt like a changed person. He'd no longer have to play others' games to get ahead. He had a few of his own to play . . . games that would be played using only one set of rules: Frank Taylor's.