May I Have This - Mafia?

Maybe I'm a rose, a thorny rose. Or perhaps I am a wildflower. I'm unsure of what particular flower I am, but I know for sure I am a wall-flower. AS I stand alone at the sidelines, a cup of punch in my hand, watching these love-sick teenage couples dance; yes I am at a dance. Not just any dance though, Middleton High's famous February 'Romeo and Juliet dance'. More like RomeNO and JuliDON'T dance!

Every year it's the same deal. Couples flit through the doors, girls all decked out in fancy gowns-some even wearing tiara's, I mean the whole 9 yards. Boys come in jeans and a tux jacket-and sneakers, but the girls were grateful for at least the jacket. Same mushy gushy playlist, same ridiculous cupid baby cut-outs every where. It disgusts me.

The only reason I'm here is because you get extra credit in social studies, for - get this- exposing ourselves to music and dancing as generations and cultures before us have. Katy Perrie and twerking aren't my idea of culture, but I could use the extra credit. .

So here I was, standing by myself at the back of the room, wishing I had brought a book. Sadly, this stupid clutch couldn't fit a 500 page novel in it, it could barely fit my cell phone and a 10 dollar bill! It was during this irritation of book-deprivation that I decided to leave. I simply could not wait to finish my book and had already gone 3 hours without reading it. So, I gulped down the last of my punch and was heading for the exit, when a group of armed men burst through the door. "EVERYBODY INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM!"

Startled, I press myself against the wall and crawl under the punch table. Screams from girls could be heard for miles around I'm sure. Their boyfriends take the chance to act macho and hold them tight. We're under attack by a freaking mafia and the guys manage to use it to their advantage. Smooth...no really, that's impressive.

The group of rude party-crashers start to collect phones or other means of communication. I quickly pull my phone out and set it to vibration. I can't risk getting caught by having my phone go off, I'd never forgive myself.

I peek through the sheer fabric covering the side of the table, only to find a face staring right back at me. A gasp escapes my mouth and I feel sheer terror from the top of my head to the bottom of my toes. But - I know this face. They slip under the table and I come to face to face with something almost as terrifying as the men who ruined this awful dance.

My ex-boyfriend. I'm both relieved and horrified. Here is this beautiful human being who is charmingly sweet and cruelly handsome. He's both the guy who broke me heart and the guy who made me laugh ridiculously hard. He's super sweet but also the guy who lead me on for months. He's the super cute boy who was an insensitive jerk! He's the loveliest daydream, but the worst idea. He's perfect boyfriend material, which is why he has a beautiful girlfriend. Oh yeah, he has a girlfriend.

But now is not the time to get caught up in the color of his eyes, now is the time not to die. We'll be dead if I can't get a grip. Lucky for me, all these thoughts cross my mind in about 4.5 seconds, meaning we haven't lost much time.

He nods a nod to me, and I nod a silent hello as well. I gesture to my phone, and then put a finger to my lips. He smiles and silences his phone. Wait - where IS his girlfriend? I mouth the question to him, and he just shrugs. I roll my eyes and pull out my phone. Ugh, boys. Quickly, I start typing out a text to 911.

"HELP! We are under a mafia attack. There are 6 armed men in this room alone. They all look to be about 6 feet and are muscular, but wearing masks. They have gathered a little over 150 students in the middle of the gym floor. I am under a table with another student taking cover. No shots fired yet. Come with sirens off. Lives at stake. We are at 1156 Lonesom-"

I stop immediately when I hear footsteps approaching. Sure enough, I can see a dark figure walking towards us at a fast pace. I toss the phone to my ex and whisper urgently "Finish it!" He tosses his phone to me in return. The figure stops short outside the table and aims his gun right at me. "Come out with your hands behind your head!" he yells.

"Okay, okay! Don't shoot! Don't shoot please!" I crawl out from under the table with my hands behind me head and walk cautiously towards the high-school terrorist. He rips the phone out of my hands and turns it on as he walks me towards the other hostages. "A car screensaver? You expect me to believe this is your phone?" he asks with raised eyebrows. "No! Of course not. It's my brothers phone." I reply nonchalantly. "May we sit down?" I ask politely. "Everyone except you may." a snooty voice replies. A voice I know. A voice coming from a 'hostage'.

A very pretty girl in a very pretty dress steps forward from our compacted group. A series of gasps follow as people realize there was an inside source. I tilt my head as I try to place her from the back of her figure. She reaches her assailants and spins around quite fashionably. Now, it's my turn to gasp. It's my ex's girlfriend! Plot twist, sheesh! I never liked her much anyways, but a mafia boss?! That's a little far fetched, even for me.

"What is this about?" I ask curiously as she circles me like a circus master circles a dangerous lion. I'm sure she's loving all the attention from the her audience of captives as she smiles and tilts her head every which way. "Oh, you knowww what this is about!" she sneers. I squint and look around as if there should be a blinking sign with the answer to this nightmare. "I beg your pardon, but I am afraid I haven't the slightest clue as to what you might be suggesting." I answer politely. If glares could kill, I would be long gone by now. She stops in front of me and slaps me. Shocked, I can only react by reaching to hit her back in defense. I am stopped short by six machine guns pointed at me. I step down and cross my arms.

"You really should pick your battles more carefully darling!" she tsks sarcastically with her big stupid doe eyes. She's insane. I've literally never spoken a weird to this human being, and know I'm being targeted by terrorists at her disposal. This is why I don't come to dances. "Would you mind enlightening me as to why you hate me so?" I ask as nicely as I can through gritted teeth. "Because you're trying to steal my boyfriend from me! Duh!" she giggles satanically. Wait what. Her boyfriend is my ex...she thinks that I'm in the way?

The room is so stock still silent you can hear the breathing of each individual person in the room. That is, until I burst out laughing. "Are you kidding me?! YOU think I'M after your boyfriend?! That's too good. No really. I'm dying."

"No you're not; but you can be." she grins evilly. She nods at one of her men and they bring her a gun. She points it at me, and looks at me as if she's daring me to provoke her. I just laugh. "Go right ahead. I'm a teenage girl with family, boy, school, and me issues. You think I don't want to kill myself every day? If so, you're wrong. Pull the trigger. I dare you." I boldly suggest. I'm playing with death, and everyone here knows it, including her.

"Maybe I will." she smirks a true evil villain smirk as she raises the gun towards my head. But before she has the chance to pull the trigger, she's interrupted by the USA S.W.A.T. team breaking down the doors to the gym. "EVERYBODY DOWN!" they scream right before they start firing their own machine guns. I've dropped to the floor and am finally letting my traumatized tears flow as I feel my body shut down.

When I come to I'm on a gurney with the concerned face of my ex-boyfriend peering over me. I glance around to discover that the officials have cleared out all the mafia members. Three have suffered fatal wounds, but the other three, plus my ex's girlfriend, are being loaded up to go to prison. She's hysterical of course, trying to convince the authorities she had nothing to do with any of this. It's no use and she knows it, so she resorts to yelling that she'll be back to get me.

"You have an impeccable taste in woman..." I wink as I groan and sit up. "Honestly, I'm just in shock. Did she ever strike you as crazy?!" he asks desperately. "Just about you...ironically." I laugh awkwardly, and he joins in because we aren't sure what else to do.

The night drags by slowly as we both answer questions and take pictures for various papers and articles. When it's all over, I reach into my clutch to call my parents to come pick me up. I'm stopped short by a rather large, soft, familiar hand on my own. I glance up and am surprised at my lack of surprise of who it is.

"I don't know about you, but I'm famished," he smiles softly at me. "Do you think you could give me a lift home?" I ask shyly. "Only if you agree to let me buy you a 'Sorry my girlfriend tried to kill you' apology milkshake?" he proposes whilst biting his lip nervously. How does one reject a boy so fine? Suddenly, I forget all the pain he's wrought upon me in the past, and grin like a school girl. "Only if we can get fries." I wink. "Deal!" he laughs.

We walk out the doors of this wretched gym, thanking the various authoritative figures we pass. We're halfway to his car when he stops suddenly and takes my hand in his. "Are you ok?" I ask softly. He looks up from the ground and down at me and clears his throat. "She was telling the truth you know..." he whispers almost inaudibly. "What do you mean?" I asks incredibly. "I was planning on dumping her...for you." I can barely contain my shock as he continues. "I've wanted to for a while now, but I hadn't gotten up the nerve to yet. Until tonight, that is. She must've found out somehow...I'm so sorry! It's my fault all this happened! I'm so sorry! I put you, and everyone else in danger!" His head hangs in shame, and tears trickle down his cheeks. "NO! It's not! She was mentally ill, there's nothing you could've done! You saved me and everyone else by contacting the authorities!" I smile at him as I wipe his tears away with my thumbs and kiss his forehead.

"You're my hero! Your the towns hero! I couldn't be more proud of you if I tried!" I gush as I blush with the realization of how corny I am. He breaks into a boyish grin as he pulls me close and kisses me passionately.

This isn't at all how I pictured my night going but despite almost dying, I got a surprise happy ending. We may not be royalty, but as we drive off, he's my prince and his beat up chevy truck is the perfect carriage.