Three #2
But honestly it was my fault for willingly waiting for them for four hours. Once one hour passed I should have asked Ricky for a ride home, but I naively believed that my siblings were coming back.
So now it was dark outside, cold, and a forty-five-minute walk to my house.
I had been walking for about ten minutes. This was not my first time walking home from school, so I knew a shortcut. Though, it was still a bit scary. There were tons of trees around me and very little light.
I hope I don't get kidnapped.
I had my earbuds in my ears as I walked. I was aware that walking at night with earbuds in my ears probably wasn't the smartest idea, but the music was calming. The cars were flying by me, but I wasn't paying much attention. I was too busy thinking about how shitty it was that I had to walk home.
"I need a drink," I mumbled to myself. A few sips would solve all the feelings.
On the road I spotted a motorcycle. I thought back to my childhood dream of wanting my own motorcycle. I didn't know why that was my dream, I had simply always found them to be cool.
I grew confused when the motorcycle slowed as it passed by me.
The driver kept his eyes on me, and I had no idea why.
Then he began to pull over and once his motorcycle was at a complete stop, he started walking my way.
I stopped in my tracks as my eyes widened.
I was alone at night in the middle of nowhere and a random man was walking toward me.
I paused my music and then began to slowly back away. The motorcycle's headlights were so damn bright that I couldn't see shit. My heart rate increased rapidly, and I could feel my palms getting sweaty.
At least my family would know that me being kidnapped was all their fault.
"Elias?" the voice called.
How did he know my name? Did I have a name tag on? I looked down at my shirt and confirmed that I did not have a name tag on. Back to the first question, then.
He started to walk closer, so I began to back up. He took his helmet off. I couldn't see his face because the lights were still too bright.
"Don’t run away!" he yelled, continuing to come after me.
My feet continued to move away out of fear. Damn, did I speak getting kidnapped into existence?
"I'm not gonna hurt you," he was laughing as he tried to reassure me.
That was when I stopped. I recognized that voice, I'd recognize it anywhere. He moved closer to me and I could see his face now. And of course it was just who I thought it was.
"Piss off, Javier," I said, my tone dead. I would rather walk thirty miles than ask him for a ride home.
Javier put his hand on his chest and formed an 'o' shape with his mouth, feigning offense. "Well, that's not very nice."
I stuffed my hands into my pockets and brushed past him, bumping his arm in the process. I declared that I was not going to deal with this. The universe hated me enough to have Javier be the one to find me, but that did not mean that I had to ask for a ride home.
But I stopped when I felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned around, extremely annoyed. "What?"
"Why are you walking alone at..." He checked his watch. "...7:10 at night?"
"Getting my steps in," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Javier rolled his eyes. "No, seriously. It's pretty late for you to be walking around alone in a place with no lights."
I shrugged, unsure of what else to say.
"Did your family finally get tired of you and drop you off on the side of the road?" he joked.
You aren’t too far off, actually.
I gave him the middle finger, accompanied by a fake smile.
Another motorcycle flying down the road caught my attention. The person pulled over right next to Javier's bike and made his way over to us.
"Javier? What are you doing?" the guy asked.
Oh, I recognized that guy. He was always hanging around Javier. What was his name again? Preston? Peter? Paul?
Javier turned around. "Oh, hey Pax."
It was Paxton. Well, I was close. Paxton was Javier's best friend.
Just like Ricky and I, they did everything together.
Inseparable. Of course the both of them had a motorcycle, how ironic was that?
I did not understand how their parents could be okay with giving their teenage sons motorcycles.
As cool as motorcycles were, they were very dangerous, but I guess when your parents have a bunch of money you could get anything simply by asking.
Javier continued, "I just saw Richardson on the side of the road here. Figured I should stop. Wouldn't want him getting hurt."
"Easton Richardson?"
"Elias," I corrected Paxton.
Paxton came closer, squinting his eyes to see me better. Realization spread across his face. "Oh, Baby Richardson! Sorry, I couldn't see you clearly."
Considering the fact that Easton and I looked nothing alike, I was confused as to how Paxton got us mixed up. Easton was taller, had much shorter hair, and actually had muscles. Sure, we looked like brothers, but we definitely weren't similar enough to be mistaken for each other.
I rolled my eyes at the use of the ridiculous nickname. "It's Elias."
Javier ruffled my hair. "Baby Richardson is cuter."
I swatted his hand away instantly, getting even more irritated than before. "I'm not a damn child. Could you both leave me alone so I can walk home in peace?"
The best friends shared a look and then fell into laughter. I didn't know what was so funny, and this interaction only confirmed my theory that they were both lunatics.
Done with their games, I shoved past the both of them and continued my walk home.
"Want a ride?" I recognized the voice to be Paxton's.
I stopped, contemplating my options. Walk home or get a ride from Javier and Paxton?
On the one hand, I wanted to be stubborn. I wanted to show them that I did not need their help and that I was capable of doing everything myself. I had also just told myself that I would rather walk thirty miles before letting them bring me.
But on the other hand, I was not up for the long walk alone at night. It’s also been a dream of mine to ride on a motorcycle, so… I could swallow my pride for once.
With a deep breath, I turned around. Both boys were looking at me, awaiting an answer.
"Yeah," I mumbled.
Javier cupped his ear with his hand and leaned forward. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?"
" Yes ," I agreed with as much attitude as possible.
Javier nudged Paxton. "Hey, I don't think I caught that, did you?"
When Paxton shook his head, Javier nodded. He had that same condescending smirk that he always had on his face. "Can you speak up?"
Fed up, my voice rose, "Yes, I want a ride!"
"That's all you had to say," Javier said simply.
He and Paxton led me to their bikes, and I followed them. Not wanting to have to wrap my arms around Javier, I walked over to Paxton’s motorcycle. Paxton was the lesser of two evils.
Before I could get onto the bike, he put his hand out and hit me in the head in the process.
"Ah, ah, ah," Paxton waved his finger in my face. "You have to ride with Javier."
"Why?" I asked.
"I never agreed to drive you home."
I looked at Javier with confusion. He was standing right there when Paxton asked me if I needed a ride home, which obviously suggested that I ride on his motorcycle. Javier shrugged at me.
"But you–" I tried to speak but Javier interrupted.
"C'mon Elias. Your house is on my way, but it's not on Paxton's." Javier told me as he patted the seat behind him, holding his helmet in his other hand. I begrudgingly moved away from and toward Javier’s. He handed me his helmet after I climbed onto the seat.
"Since when do you have a motorcycle?" I mumbled as I wrapped my arms around his waist.
"Since my sixteenth birthday."
"You got a car and a motorcycle on your sixteenth birthday?" I asked, shocked. "How come I've never seen it before?"
Javier started the bike, the sound of the engine turning on loud in my ears. "Probably because we aren’t friends."
I knew that I shouldn't have felt offended by his words, but I still did for some inexplicable reason. Yes, we weren't friends, but it only was okay if I said it. Not if he said it.
"Still, I feel like I would know it by now."
Ignoring my question, he said, "Hold on tight."
I was about to ask him what helmet he was going to use since he was giving me his, but once the bike took off, I decided against unnecessary conversation.