| Five-Minute Hero- Aquilae Stilus 2000 "I have a rehearsal after school until four," Diana said, glancing in the rear view mirror at me. "Are you going to get a ride home with somebody?" "Oh, I can call my mom; that's no problem." I shrugged. Turning to her sister Amy in the shotgun seat, I added, "Do you want my mom to give you a ride?" Amy shook her head. "I have orchestra today." I sat back, letting silence blanket the car once more as Diana turned into the student parking lot. We found a spot near the back, third row out, and I checked my watch as I climbed out of the backseat. Five minutes until the first bell. After collecting our backpacks and purses from the trunk, Diana locked the car and we headed down the row toward the school building. "Help me." The sound, choked and soft, came from my left, a few feet in front of me. My eyes connected briefly with the dark-eyed glance of a stranger in a nearby car, before the boy blocking her from my vision pushed her back down against the seat. My confusion deepened at the sound of her muffled scream. Diana turned, sending us uneasy glances, and hesitantly continued, throwing a look over her shoulder when she realized Amy and I weren't following. I frowned. As far as I could tell, the boy restraining the strange girl wasn't hurting her- but then, I only caught a brief glimpse of her face. His white T-shirt didn't even ripple with effort as two pairs of feet jutted from the open driver's side door of the car. I stared after Diana, rooted where I stood, wondering why she didn't stop. Wondering why she didn't do something, so I wouldn't have to. She retreated, leaving Amy and I standing in the near-silent parking lot, uneasy and watching each other for action. I turned and met Amy's wide eyes. She paused with me, uncertain of what to do. I wondered whether she wanted to leave, too- to pretend she'd seen nothing. Was she remaining only because I did? The girl lay across the front seat, and the boy half-lay, half-kneeled over her. She tried to push herself up, but the boy bent back down and she disappeared from sight, other than the pair of shoes that dangled useless like a doll's out the open door. I took a shuddering breath, still frozen. For some odd reason, the words I knew I should be saying stuck in my throat. Images flashed through my head of all the books and movies I'd seen with situations like these, where some hero stepped from the shadows and saved the day with quick, decisive action. I didn't want to have to step in. My head screamed at me to move, to get out of there and try to forget everything. But a muffled sob from inside the car reminded me that if I walked on I could never forgive myself. I debated whether to speak. The boy wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything with us standing there, would he? But we couldn't stand there forever.. Why couldn't this be easy, like the movies? Why couldn't I see whether he was hurting her? Why weren't my choices delineated like skywriting in my brain, like all those shadowy epic saviors who knew exactly what to do? Coward. Coward, coward. I couldn't force myself to move. I couldn't shove words past the uncertainty lodged in my throat. "Get out!" the girl whimpered, and again she rocked upward to escape and he pushed her back down. What would happen if we left? I knew Amy only waited for me. Once I started walking she would follow, eager to leave it behind. "Let's go," Amy whispered, turning. Another sob came from the car, from the unmoving feet. If not for that sound, they could be lovers stealing one last moment before the bell rang. "Get off!" she cried. Move. MOVE, darnit. My hands itched to grab the boy by his white T-shirt and yank him out of the car myself. Would I be strong enough? Would he just shake me off? Would he turn and knock me senseless? Would Amy be left alone, with no choice but to turn and run? What a moment- I'd always imagined myself bold and brash. Now, when it really mattered, I confronted my inner yellow streak. Little crystal sparks danced before my eyes as if I were hyperventilating, slowed in an icy cowardice. But refusing to do anything violated every unspoken oath in my conscience. If I walked away, I could be betraying every teenage girl in the world. Continue |