I Lied When I Said I Didn't Love You

The next day I headed off to see Mr Marda. He told me to meet him at a café downtown; he said it was nearer to where he lived.
I didn’t tell Billie or Tre where I was going, naturally.

They were acting weird enough already.

Ever since Tre and I kissed the day before, Billie and him had started having whispered arguments, stopping whenever I made an appearance into the room. They would look guiltily at me for a few seconds then stiffly start talking loudly about sports. Sports, for crying out loud!

Tre and Billie didn’t even watch sport, let alone talk about it!

Something was up. I could feel it in my bones, a deep suspicious tingle down my already nervous spine.

More than once I had caught Billie staring at me from across the table, his green eyes narrowed in a worried frown.

“What?” I asked, throwing down my paper. This was the fifth time I had caught him staring at me; it was beginning to give me the creeps.

“Oh, nothing Mike. It’s okay,” he said hurriedly, excusing himself from the table. I watched his fluffy head dart around the corner, opening the door to Tre’s room and going inside.

They had to be talking about me. There was no other explanation.
I didn’t like it when people talked about me. Half the reasons I got detentions for fighting when I was still at school was because of the things other people said about me.

Mike’s adopted, his real Mom was a heroin addict.

Mike’s a drug addict.

Mike’s insane.

Mike’s a queer.

Mike fucks guys behind the bike sheds.

Mike sucks other guys’ dicks.

Billie had to hold me back once, when I got really angry. He said it was like trying to restrain a rhino.

Billie wasn’t as bad as me. He could brush some of the comments with sarcasm. But when someone made him angry he turned into a violent tornado, his aggression making up for his height.

Billie even scared me when he got angry. There was no telling what he would do next. One false move and you could find yourself with a broken nose.

I left to go to the café in the morning, walking down the busy streets. People pushed past each other- nothing else mattered to them other then where their next pay check was coming from. I could understand that a little. Money is a must-have in this world; you simply cannot survive without it. If I ever got enough money, I wanted to open my own café. I really like to cook.

Finally I got to the café, cautiously stepping inside. It was a nice place, all brown leather and gold lighting. Artsy looking people sat at the tables, sketching, talking, laughing and eating together. It wasn’t really my kind of place.

“Mike! Mike! Over here!” I heard someone call. I turned around. Mr Marda was sitting at a table in the corner, a tired smile on his face. He didn’t look well, his hair was dull and listless, his skin pale and his eyes not as bright as they once were. His clothes hung baggy around him, he was skinnier then before.

“Sit down! I just ordered some coffee,” he told me, pulling out the chair beside him and smiling gently. I sat down awkwardly, not knowing where to look. I settle on the shiny table surface. I wasn’t very good at keeping eye contact with people. It left me feeling insecure and way too open to attack.

“So, Mike, you’ve been having a tough time, right?” Mr Marda asked quietly. His voice echoed with sympathy for me, the poor wreck that attracted the wrong sort of attention.

I nodded, still staring at the table.

“Mike, if I’m going to talk to you, I would appreciate it if you would look me in the eye,” Mr Marda said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I slowly moved my head upwards, but I kept my eyes down.

“I’m not going to hurt you, why are you afraid?”

I shrugged before answering.

“I’m not afraid… I just find it hard to trust people.”

“Really? So that is why you don’t tell your friends anything, hmm?”

I nodded again. Mr Marda sighed.

“What can I do to prove that I’m trustworthy to you, Mike?”
I shrugged again.

“I don’t know, Sir.”

I shifted in my seat. I didn’t feel comfortable in these surroundings. The place was much too busy, too fast. I needed calm.

“I know,” Mr Marda continued. “I will tell you my first name. No need to keep up with all this “Mr Marda” business. I’m no longer your teacher, anyway. The general public made sure of that.”

He laughed humourlessly at this, more sarcastic then anything. I myself didn’t really see how knowing someone’s first name would make him or her any more trustworthy. It was just a bunch of letters.

“Okay,” I said anyway. I didn’t want to upset him or anything.

“Well, Mike, my name is Iain. Now, will you look me in the eye?”
I looked up completely, meeting his light blue eyes. Mr Marda (I really couldn’t think of him as Iain) smiled.

“Good. Now we can talk about things, including your slight encounter with my niece?”

I spat out my coffee in alarm. Niece? What niece? Unless he was talking about-

“Yes, that Sasha girl you met is my niece. Surprised?”

“Wha- you- her- what?” I stammered.

I suddenly realised I had told him some of the more private details of that night and blushed. Uh oh.

“I’m sorry, if I knew she was your-“

“Mike, relax. I don’t care about what you two did when you met. As long as you didn’t get her pregnant.”

“Of course not!” I said indignantly.

“Good, good.”

I cleared my throat. I had to ask him where she was- I needed to know she was okay.

“Um… Mr Marda- I mean, um, Iain… you wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”

Mr Marda suddenly looked sad, staring down into his coffee with his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“No,” he said quietly. “She had to leave months ago- her brute of an ex-boyfriend was bent on hunting her down. Haven’t heard from her since.”

“Oh.”

We were silent, both thinking of the same thing. That Sasha was okay, where ever she was. I still thought that I should’ve done something- anything! I just hated the fact I had been too scared to help her.

Finally the waiter bought the coffees. He put one in front of me, one in front of Mr Marda and one in front of an empty seat.

“Wait, why do we have three coffees? There’s only two here,” I asked, breaking the silent spell. Mr Marda laughed.

“Oh, yes, I forgot to mention, my boyfriend’s stopping by later. That’s okay with you, right?” he asked.

I nodded slowly. It was weird to think that my ex-teacher had a boyfriend- or any love life at all!

“Don’t look like that, Mike. I’m not that old!”

“What?”

“It’s not that weird for me to have a boyfriend. I’m only thirty six!”

Thirty-six was still pretty old in my book. Mr Marda checked his watch. It was a silver pocket watch that lived in his trouser pocket. He used to always be checking it near the end of class. It was attached to his key ring, which had a small picture attached to it in a plastic bubble. He always refused to show us the picture, however much we asked. We used to think it was his kids or something- but now I knew it was more likely his boyfriend.

“He should be here in a couple of minutes,” he said happily, stuffing the watch back into his pocket.

Sure enough, the café door opened. A man walked in, wearing a beanie and sunglasses. He was taller then both Mr Marda and me and walked like a lion. I shivered slightly. It sounds stupid, but I didn’t like the vibe I was getting from this person. Mr Marda may have been dating him- but it didn’t make him a good person.

“Hi, hun,” the man said, sitting down beside me and taking off his beanie. A familiar looking crop of messy blonde hair fell out around his face. I twitched slightly. Mr Marda didn’t notice. He just beamed at his boyfriend from across the table.

“And this must be Mike. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” he said silkily, putting extra emphasis on the word pleasure.

He removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of murky green eyes.

My heart just about stopped completely as I froze in fear.

It was my attacker- the one that nearly raped me!