Chapter 34: Franny-2

"Ty, he wouldn't do that. He's never showed any interest in fighting!" "But he could," Tyler says. "He could be betting all his money on fights. And losing each time. He doesn't have the money to pay up so Carl comes around every two months and forces it off him. Leaves your dad in so much debt that he has nothing to give anymore." "They might just be friends," I whisper. "Franny," Tyler says and I feel his hand suddenly cupping my cheek, pulling my head to face him. "Can you honestly look me in the eyes right now and tell me that your dad is friends with a man like Carl? Honestly." His eyes are fierce as he stares at me. I feel more vulnerable than ever as I sit before him, having nowhere to go and no place to hide. I shake my head and clench my eyes shut. "He wouldn't be friends with him." Tyler's hand drops from my cheek and, pitifully, I miss the warmth almost immediately. "We should get out of here," he says. "We need to talk anyway." As the engine roars to life, I look over to where the men were to find them all gone, no evidence of them ever being present. Tyler pulls the truck out of the parking lot and off down the street. I don't know where we're going or even if Tyler knows himself. But I don't ask. I trust him. Probably more than I should. *** When Tyler stops the car ten minutes later it's by the side of a road with rain pounding down on the windows. He cuts the engine and we sit there in silence, the only noise from the harsh, continuous rainfall. Suddenly Tyler undoes his seatbelt and reaches over towards me. I lean back as he opens the glove compartment and pulls out the little curtains I'd seen earlier. He takes one and hands me the other, and we attach them to the side windows. Together, we get the front and back windows covered up and now only a little light comes in around the edges. Tyler reaches up and presses a button, and the little light in the ceiling illuminates the interior. It's weak but enough for me to see him. "Isn't that going to run the battery down?" I ask. He shrugs. "She might be an old truck but she's actually pretty efficient when it comes to saving power." I nod, unsure what to say. His truck is a she. "What are you going to do with the files?" I ask. "There's a fireplace at my house that my mom uses a lot. I'll burn the papers in there when they're not looking. Then they'll finally be gone, forever." I place a hand on Tyler's shoulder gently and he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I need to tell you something," Tyler says. "About Carl and you." "What do you mean?" I frown. "I went to see him the other day," he says. "To scope out his office, see where the cabinets were so I wasn't fumbling around today. But I also went to confront him. And as I did . . . he threatened you." "Threatened me?" "It's wasn't exactly direct, but he knew you," he explains. "Knew of you and that we'd been around each other for a while. I thought he had people following me but now I think it might be because of your dad. He would have already known you if he was visiting your dad all the time. He knows things about you." "He can't know that much," I say. "He's only come to see my dad, that isn't enough." "He knows we go to school together and he knows what school I go to. Therefore, he knows where you are during school hours. He knows where you live. Therefore, he knows where you are after school hours. That's enough, Franny." "But . . . but I have nothing to do with this." I turn my wide eyes on Tyler. "I didn't do anything to him." "But you're right in the middle," Tyler says softly. "I'm sorry but you were always involved. Even before you met me. You were involved the second your dad started betting on the fights." My hands clench against my knees. Tyler says something else but I don't hear him over the rain and the thoughts running through my mind. I stare down at my knuckles which have turned white from the pressure and slowly release them with a gasp. Tyler shifts closer and places a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but not painful. Enough to let me know he's there but not too much to become threatening. "Franny . . . you're okay." He leans his head down until I look at him. "You're going to be fine. Nothing's going to happen to you. To us." I stare at him. And he stares back. He looks at me the way that used to make me feel on edge. That made me feel exposed and vulnerable. The way I used to hate him looking at me. But now I see no fault. I see no problem. I see comfort, worry and understanding. And it doesn't scare me. It doesn't worry me how much I trust this boy and how far I would test that trust. Maybe it's a bad thing. Maybe it's what I need. "You're not as bad as you think," I say quietly without thinking and Tyler frowns. "I can tell you went through some tough crap last year . . . and that's why you started fighting. I know you're not ready to tell me. I went through some tough crap last year. And, well, I guess you're not as different as I thought. You're not some strange enigma or some fucked-up druggie. You're just going through a rough patch." I shrug. "Aren't we all?" A hint of a smile plays along Tyler's features. I notice that he's closer, closer than before. His hand is still on my shoulder and slowly he runs it down my arm to my elbow, where his thumb strokes the crease absentmindedly. His face is inches from mine, our noses so close they could touch and our lips are in painfully close proximity. One little movement forward and they could meet. They could touch. We could kiss. One little move that takes only a fraction of a second to do and only a fraction of that to decide. But neither of us has the guts. Tyler leans back, and his hand slowly falls from my elbow. "It's late," he says, and I nod, my heart beating too fast for me to form words. The rain has slowed down and by the time Tyler pulls the truck back onto the road, he doesn't even need to use the wipers. But the tense silence that follows during the entire journey makes me wish for the rain to come back twice as loud and hard. One step forward, two steps back.