Chapter 61st

Though I had enough of a head start to briefly asses my options, Chris wasted no time. He recovered fast from my aggression and ran almost completely unimpeded behind me, with the exception of a few stumbles. His piercing blue eyes only looked scarier now that a black smudge shadowed them.

My shoes skidded across the polished floor as I decelerated to run down the stairs. I nearly fell, and nearly rolled down when Chris gained me, but escaped his grasp by an inch – so close an inch, that the tension itself made me scream. And while I jumped two or even three steps at a time down the main stairs, Chris jumped the entire flight, landing heavily behind me at each turn, until there was no time to think left, no time to even process his threats, to even consider stopping on my tracks before a shot could be fired.

In not thinking, just running ahead of him in the short window I had left before he caught up to me, I found my way into the cafeteria. I ran around the long sets of tables and benches, eager to put an obstacle between us. Of course, that silly game of chasing couldn't help me very long – quickly realizing that, I jumped and rolled over the marble serving counter that doubled as a divider closing off the kitchen, landing on my feet on the other side. Chris couldn't follow through the same opening, he wasn't small enough. With an impatient groan, he ran around to find the official way in.

The school's kitchen was a big, industrial-sized operation. It was extra dark in there, because it was farther from the vast windows that illuminated all other rooms, and row after row of counters, racks and hanging clutter made it the best hiding spot in the entire school – not that I knew that beforehand, not that I had ever been there until now…

I crouched down and scurried around the room, finding a secluded enough place near one of the many stoves – a place where the corner counter was empty, and I could crawl under it for extra concealment. As soon as I entered this new hiding, I heard the doors slamming open on the opposite side – Chris stepped in, then hesitated, wondering where I was.

The hardship he contemplated in that room was enough to stress him – I could hear it in his voice, in the carefulness of his steps as he began walking around… then, in the click of the doors being closed… locked!

"I know you're in here…" he said, his voice tired, panting composedly "…there's no point in hiding!"

There was a point, and I felt like idiotically telling him so: to gain time.

I heard him pace carefully. He measured his words carefully, too… feigned a smile:

"Come on… this is getting tiring!" he sighed. I heard a noise… a slight scraping sound. Something heavy being pulled… quietly. "I'm tired. I know you are too." He spoke… something else was dragged about. "I can hear it. In your breathing."

Could he? I pressed my palm against my mouth. Irresistibly, I tucked my head out of my hiding place, peeped: I saw him in the distance, his eyes hawk-like, surveilling the open space around him, while his hands skillfully and carefully pulled industrial caldrons around, placing them on that opening I had used to crawl into… blocking my escape! I shrunk myself back in my place, sweat beading my forehead and my heart losing its pace… there was no escaping. Just a matter of time…

"…just a matter of time…" he smiled, as if he could hear my thoughts "…until I find you."

I peeped again, only to see him, gun in hand, eyes focused, sweeping the room as a very carefully calculated step brought him forward.

"But you're a smart girl, you know that already. Your powers of deduction have told you so, haven't they? You don't really want to do this… to escape. It's not the point."

I tucked in my knees, wrapped my arms around them, listened for his approach.

"You're just doing what you think is right, aren't you? This whole… tough girl act… that's not you. I've seen you, when we were alone: a sweet girl… eager to please…" his lips stretched into a smile at the memory "shy… cute, too!" his voice lightened up, as if nostalgic "You're just tiring yourself out doing what you think people expect of you. Well… it's just you and me now. No cop… no nosy friends… There's no one to applaud you on your bravery… no one to judge…"

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second… it only made his voice more intense… scarier.

"So, come on, Abby. For the good old times, when it was just me and you: show yourself. No more tricks. No more games… let's deal with this situation, like rational people."

I peeped, in time to see him nervously turn around a set of counters with his gun pointed ahead. Seeing nothing there, he proceeded to walk carefully. He wasn't as tranquil as his speech implied… he was scared of a surprise attack, of another trick. Did that mean it was possible? Could I find a way out, even now? Oh, the thrill of thinking about it… the commotion in my heart was enough to despair me. He was right: I was really, really tired!

"If you think of it…" he resumed, after a minute of deadly silence, in which not even a squeak on my part was produced "It was oddly kind of you to bring us back here, to this secluded place. Why though? Good memories?" he teased "No… that wasn't it. I think part of you wanted to be alone with me again, to straighten things out. I guess we do have a lot to talk about, a lot to discuss, just me and you, huh? …Most of which no one else can know. You don't want them to, do you, Abby? You'd hate for them to know. That's why you brought us here."

My heart beat heavily – I put my hand over it, irrationally fearing it could be heard.

"Our feelings…" he sighed, musing "They can't always be controlled. But you are young… you are just discovering that."

Feelings! What kind of talk was it that we were having, and where was he going with this?

"Don't you ever think about it, Abby – about why you came to me in the first place?"

I thought about it all the time.

"I mean, a girl your age… it's not exactly normal to develop feelings for older boys. Do you ever ask yourself what was it you wanted with me? Why did you want it so bad, you were willing to lie your age, to trick me into giving you just a little more of my time? You don't know the answer for that, do you? It's only natural you wouldn't: you are young. But I understand it – I understand you, Abby… do you?"

I breathed out a painful sigh.

"There is no shame in being who we are – we are made that way. You came to me because you wanted to be seen. To be treated as more than just a child, even if briefly… for as long as it lasted, as long as I allowed it before I discovered what a little troublemaker you really were! And you've been wanting this desperately, but no one would help you… no one would acknowledge you. And the irony is… you were never allowed to be a kid either, were you?"

Why did my heart feel so, so heavy? Like it could burst open …

"Not by your family: It's no wonder you were more than glad to cast them aside – they cast you aside first! The middle child who fails to be as good as the older sibling, and who gets blamed for the shortcomings of the youngest, when all the while you were just living your own life as best as you could, with those precocious worries robbing you of exploring your own inclinations… You'd never succeed at anything, not under their shadow, under that overwhelming pressure of not being good enough. But you found it everywhere you turned, didn't you? In the friends you chose, in your teachers… Hell, even that cop mimics the weight of their impossible expectations. Among all those people – all those people you gladly keep at arm's length because you know they have a world of pain for you if you let them close – you saw me… And you singled me out!"

I heard his imminent approach – his voice growing closer, as it grew warmer. I should leave – quietly crawl out of my hiding place and move somewhere else, just to avoid detection… but I wanted to hear what else he had to say.

"Why did you choose me, do you wonder? What did you see in me that promised it would be different? Maybe you saw the very thing that now scares you into hiding: Fear. Fear of the unknown. That sense of danger pulled you in… because deep down, you wanted this, Abby. You wanted to be where you are: At the edge, where nothing else matters, where there's no one to point a finger at you and tell you where you went wrong… just you and me."

He was behind me – on the aisle behind me. One more turn, and he would find me. But luckily, he moved slowly… slow enough to give me time to think… to listen.

"You have probably realized it by now: how often you've sabotaged yourself into failing, into waiting behind for me. You see… I know you. I know that, as much as you want to survive…" he stretched that word, as if it had a comical ring to it "…you're scared of the life laid out ahead of you. Of going back to those same old prospects, the stifling pressure of going back to your parents, of moving under their wings and having to answer to them like a good little girl again, to watch your baby sister and account for her every failings in life… It's not your fault: They've collectively made it such hell for you, that you'd much rather answer to me, instead. You'd much rather take your chances with a stranger, because he makes you feel alive… He makes you feel like any of this is actually real…"

Was there still time to crawl away? I could barely move.

"Deep down, you want this, Abby. You want to give yourself to me, don't you? Not because of a death wish, but simply because… because of that feeling. There's no shame in feeling what you feel – no shame in admitting it, in giving in to them… to me. And there's no one here to judge. You want to show yourself. You want to come to me… don't you?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, blinking back a tear. I shook my head nervously form one side to the other… I spoke:

"Not like this!"

Chris stopped. I heard his head turn my way, heard the air escape him as he smiled: I had listened.

"And if I tell you it doesn't have to be like this?" he resumed his pacing, his voice specially crafty. "If you're a good girl… if you're not afraid of me anymore, who knows what we could do? Maybe we could even… just be… and see where that takes us!"

I wasn't ready yet… I wasn't trusting enough. I pulled out from my hiding, I moved to another aisle, back where he'd been, just as he'd turned around. Indeed, he must have seen something: some shadow, or just the idea of my movement, for I saw him raise his arms, pointing his gun… but nothing was there. He looked about himself, paced carefully once more.

"You and I… we are made of the same mesh. We can't possibly expect people to understand. But if we can understand each other, if we find a way… then perhaps none of this has to happen." His eyes were alert, smart… confident, too. "I wouldn't mind the extra weight, you know? That is, if you behaved, of course! Do exactly as I tell you. No one likes a brat, Abby… but you wouldn't be one, would you? No… you're not like that, you're no child" he cocked a smile "Come with me, Abby, and I won't treat you as one. Isn't that what you dreamed of? Someone who actually sees you, and who wants you around. And I've done nothing but want you, since we've met…"

Those words… their effect upon my fluttering heart were undeniable. It anguished me with confusion.

"Just us. What do you say? No more of those stupid friends, and no family to speak of. You love the idea of not having to explain any of this to anyone, don't you? And I wouldn't mind having you all to myself either - Just you and I… Like Bonnie and Clyde, and no one in between us. You'd want that... wouldn't you? So come..."

"Where?"

I heard Chris turn again. His voice changed directions… coming slowly my way.

"Wherever… Anywhere." He smiled. He had no idea, really. "I'll find a place to keep you: somewhere far enough, where no one can find you. It will have to be our secret, of course."

I fell silent, thinking… experiencing those words, like a treacherous stroke to the face. Was there anything there to be trusted? After all he had done, could I possibly trust him? My heart felt like it was breaking…

"Come on, Abby…" his warmest, softest voice smiled, cooing me "…no more games. No more masks. You know you can't do it to anyone else – can't let anyone else in. You can't… connect to them, can you? How could you? People just don't understand you… not like I do. And I know you, Abby: all of you! I've seen it all, all those thoughts you're too ashamed to share… all those dark little corners… You've showed them all to me, because you know I can't judge you: I'm broken, too. And you enjoyed it, didn't you? being yourself…" The corners of his mouth twisted in a cunning smile, I could hear it in his voice. "I know I did…" then a sigh… longing? "So come, Abby: show yourself. Stop hiding from me… and we can leave this whole mess behind us. No explaining... no intrusions. Just us. Just like you wanted."