Cupid's Chokehold

Chapter 2

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Travey flashes me my favorite smile of his, the one where his dimples pop and his dark eyes glitter.

“Yeah,” I walk into his arms and hug him.

“I want a hug too!” Gabe yells, worming between me and Travey.

“Okay, okay!” I giggle.

Gabe then proceeds to pick me up off the ground and squeeze me tightly.

“Can’t breathe!” I gasp with a smile.

“Sorry,” Gabe apologizes happily.

“We need to hang out sometime,” Travey says shyly, his dark eyes cast downward.

“We can hang out Friday after school if you want,” I propose cheerily.

“Okay…You can call me if you want,” he reminds me as he walks backwards to Gabe, who was waiting on him.

“I’ll try and call later whenever my chores are done,” I promise.

He grins and turns around.

I like his walk…He has a proud swagger, and a spirit that doesn’t appear to be easily broken.

I straighten my strap on my shoulder, and begin on my walk home.

Cars fly by me, the wind tussles my hair and flattens my clothes against my body.

Grey clouds are above me, the sun plays peek-a-boo every few minutes, hiding behind the bruised storm clouds.

It isn’t long before I am home and I walk through the screen door and enter the kitchen of our two story house.

“Hey, Sammy. How was your day, baby doll?” Daddy greets me from the sink, the water sloshing messily onto the counter next to it.

Daddy wasn’t a cleaning man, but he liked to help when Mom had to work.

“It was good,” I set my bag into a kitchen chair then I pluck a brilliantly red apple from the fruit bowl in the center of the table.

“Just good? Did you make any friends?” he raises an eyebrow at me.

“Yeah…They’re both really nice and funny,” I picture Travey and Gabe in my head as I bite a chunk out of my snack.

“What’s their names?”

The only thing about Daddy that made it uncomfortable was that he had to interrogate everything.

If your answer was short, Daddy was never satisfied.

I suddenly remembered that Travey was black and Gabe was Hispanic.

“Travis and Gabe,” I am hesitant in even revealing this much to him.

I hate how he is so stuck in his prejudice ways.

It’s embarrassing to have him as a father at times; I grew up listening to him refer other races by the meanest names our society has created.

I suppose he had expected me to be the same way.

For some reason, it hadn’t seemed to pester Mom as much as Daddy’s racial slurs did me.

“Hmm…Boys? Why not girls?” he places several glasses into a cabinet.

“None of the girls would talk to me,” I am telling the truth; all the girls did was give me the stink eye.

“They’re just jealous because you’re so beautiful,” he rubs my cheek affectionately.

“Pshh, yeah…Right, me beautiful,” I smirk.

Daddy swats my arm softly.

“You know what we should do?”

“What?” I chomp more off of my fruit, the juices dribble down my chin.

“We should make a special dinner for Mom,” he says.

“Yeah, we should,” I smile at him, envisioning Mom’s tired, etched face.

“What’re we gonna make?” he runs a hand through his fading hair.

“We should make enchiladas!” I cry, “You know how much she loves those.”

“Okay…Umm…Would you mind running to the grocery store? We need stuff for it,” Daddy bends over the table, musing aloud what to get and then writes it down on a slip of paper.

“Be careful, don’t talk to strangers,” Daddy hands me the paper and a twenty dollar bill.

“Daddy, I’m not three anymore,” I grin before I turn and head out the screen door once more.

I am running at first, but then I slow down to a happy saunter, just enjoying the half way decent day.

For some reason, I wish I can talk to Travey.

I have his number, but I don’t want it to send off weird messages…

I barely know him…

I sigh, and I am almost to the grocery store.

As I walk inside, I feel as if I am being watched.

The hairs on the back of my neck are standing straight up, and I have goose bumps on my arms.

I walk down the meat isle and get what I need, then circulate around the store to get the rest of the ingredients.

As I wait for the cashier to ring up my items, I still have that being stalked feeling.

“You okay?” the guy questions, his eyes are full of curiosity.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I hand him the money and I don’t hesitate for the change.

I practically run out of the doors, and I jog, frantic.

The bag slaps my thigh and the wind blows my curls into my eyes.

What the hell is your problem, Samaira? I scold myself.

I catch my breath, slowing to a walk, peering behind me; I am paranoid beyond reason.

Just when I am about calm, a clap of thunder erupts from no where, and I jump.

A sprinkle lands on my arm, and it is all of a sudden like someone has turned the shower on.

A steady drizzle soaks me to the bone in less than three minutes, and I groan in frustration.

I have another two streets to walk before I am home.

The rain is unrelenting, and it pours and pours.

My eyes are blurry, and my mascara is surely now black puddles pooled under my eyes.

I keep my head down against the weather, and hold the groceries tight inside my hoodie.

I am shaking now; it isn’t exactly the warmest thing in the world.

A honk of a car horn causes me to look up.

It is a black mustang, sleek and shiny, even more so with the water zig zagging off of it in rivulets.

It stops next to me, and the tinted window rolls down.

A long haired blonde guy with a big, white toothed smile and bright, sky blue eyes meets my eyes pleasantly.

Who is this?

“You look like you need a ride home!” he calls with a laugh.

“A little bit,” I reply.

“Hop in if you want,” he offers.

I stare at him for a moment, then hop into the vehicle.

The seats are plush, the interior is the cleanest I have ever seen any car.
“You must be freezing,” the sexy stranger keeps his eyes on the road, but he fishes around with one long, muscled arm to hook a jacket on his finger.

“Put this on,” he orders, turning the heat up.

I slip into it, the scent of something musky and masculine fills my nostrils.

“Thank you so much for the ride,” I smile at him, self consciously pushing wet curls from my face.

“You’re welcome…Which street you live on?” he grins that fabulous grin at me, and returns his breathtaking eyes to the dreary water works outside.

“Broden,” I point.

“Which house?” he pulls into the street.

“The pale green-ish house,” I hold the bag close to me, feeling shy.

“You live here now?” he turns into the driveway, setting the car in park.

“Yep,” I nod.

“I used to be close friends with the girl who lived here before,” he looks forlornly at the house.

“But then she moved…That’s cool though, life goes on,” he smiles.

“What’s your name?” I scrounge up the courage to ask.

“Danny. Danny Stevens,” he holds out his hand in a friendly gesture.

“Samaira. Sam Johannson,” I take his hand; it’s warm and rough.

“That’s pretty…” Danny’s eyes are so dreamy…

“Thanks,” I blush.

“You’re the new girl, right?” he asks.

“Yes,” I laugh, thinking of how many times I have heard that today.

“Sorry..I’m sure you’ve heard that a lot today,” Danny says with an apologetic smile.

“It’s okay,” I am amazed that he seems to have read my mind.
“Do you want your jacket back?” I start to shrug out of it.

“No, that’s okay. You keep it ‘til tomorrow…You might get caught in the middle of something nasty again,” Danny says sincerely.

“Thanks,” I giggle.

“You better go…Your dad might think things,” he smiles.

“Yeah…” I scowl at the house.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, his eyes roam over my face.

“See ya,” I get out and wave before shutting the door and running into the shelter of my home.

What was it about Danny Stevens?
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Thanks for being so patient! Lemme know what you think :D