Molly Meets Milo
She offered her hand and a warm smile. She had long brown hair, with blonde highlights. He grinned, revealing two sharpened canines. He watched as her eyes widened noticeably with a light humor.
"Pleased to meet you, Molly. I'm Milo..." He let his words spill over his lips, relishing how she hung on each one.
She giggled nervously before asking him, "Will you walk to my next class, Milo?" He quirked an eyebrow and nodded. He offered his arms and she giggled as she took it in her own.
As they walked down the hallway, Milo heard a locker slam just behind them. He grinned as Molly whipped around to see the origin of the sound. Standing before the offended locker was the boy with whom Milo had had the earlier confrontation.
"Jason, what's your problem?" Molly fixed Jason with a disapproving glare. He looked through her to Milo, who was watching him with mild amusement dancing in his eyes.
"What are you doing with this freak, Molly?" He turned to glare at the girl.
"What are you talking about? I asked Milo to walk me to class. And he's not a freak!" She put her hands on her hips and looked down her nose at him.
Jason scoffed and continued, "So, you're trying to steal my girlfriend, huh? Well, you'd better leave her alone, Freak! She's spoken for."
Milo sneered and said," What if she doesn't want to be taken? With the way you're acting I'm surprised she's with you to begin with."
"That's it!" Jason charged, gripping Milo across the midriff and pinning him against the locker across the hallway. Milo took no action to stop the onslaught and merely chuckled when Jason tried to slam his fists into his face. He moved his head from side to side, easily dodging the potentially deadly blows.
By now a crowd had gathered and teachers were rushing down the hallway. Milo chuckled as three of the male teachers subdued Jason and hauled him down the hallway to the office. He picked up his book bag, which had dropped during the fight, and again offered his arm to Molly.
She stared at him in disbelief and then took his arm and continued on to class as if nothing had happened.
When Milo got home that afternoon, he headed straight for his room. He walked in and closed the door behind him, not noticing that his father was behind the door. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it into the hamper. As he turned to do this, he spied the older man standing in the corner.
"Hello, Milo, how was your day at school?" He took a step forward and Milo took a corresponding step back.
"It was fine, but I've got to get going. S-study group tonight." He glanced around for a quick escape from the room. The door was the only one available, but it was currently blocked.
"Sorry, Milo, it looks like you're going to have to miss your study group tonight." He took another step forward, but not before he reached back and locked the bedroom door behind him. He grinned manically at Milo, who narrowed his eyes in unspoken defiance.
"Mom'll be home in less than an hour." His tone was that of a person in complete control of their current situation. The older man's rebuttal stole the feeling from him.
"She's working late tonight. Won't be home for a few hours..." The color drained from Milo's face and the older man took another step forward.
Milo stood in the shower, water running down his body. He had been this way for at least an hour, but he knew that he would not be disturbed, not after what he had just been through. He picked up the sponge for probably the eightieth and filled it with soap. He scrubbed at his skin viciously, trying to scrub away something that he knew could never be scrubbed away.
He rinsed the soap off and turned off the water. He reached out and grabbed his towel, wrapping it around his hips before opening the curtain. He stepped out of the bathroom, accompanied by a curtain of steam. He hurried to his room and locked the door behind him. He pulled on a pair of loose-fitting pants and a t-shirt.
He looked about at the disarray of his room. Before his mother arrived home an hour later, Milo cleaned his room, did his homework and cooked dinner. All the while, his father watched him from the couch. Milo shuddered every time he caught the older man's eye.
His mother arrived and they all sat down to dinner. His mother chattered cheerfully about the ladies whom she worked with and how much typing she had accomplished that day. Milo made comments at the appropriate places, but kept silent through most of the meal.
When his mother asked him how his day had been he answered, "Oh, nothing special. Same thing different day." She smiled and said something about how hard being a teen-ager was for her. When they had finished their meal, Milo cleared the table of the dishes and leftovers. After he finished he started for the hallway. His father stopped him.
"Milo, I'm giving you a ride to school tomorrow morning. I have to talk to one of the teachers on business. Be sure to get up early." Milo nodded his head slightly, walked into his room and locked the door behind him.
Milo awoke at 4:00 am the next morning and dressed quickly. He was just walking into the kitchen when he heard his father's voice in the next room.
"I don't know what's gotten into him, Diana. Maybe he's just been having some trouble at school. I'll talk to him in the car." He rounded the corner and Milo turned to start making breakfast.
"Don't bother, we'll pick something up on the way." His words were sharp, hurried. Milo nodded and grabbed his bag. He slung it over his shoulder and started for the door. His father met him there and laid his arm across the young boy's shoulders.
When they were in the car and on their way Milo's father turned to him.
"What have you told her?" His voice was hushed as if he expected someone to over hear them.
"Bull! She's starting to get suspicious, now what have you been telling her?"
"I said nothing."
"Don't you lie to me!" A sharp blow to the boy's head reinforced his words. Milo remained silent for the remainder of the ride.
About a block from the school, Milo's father stopped the car. He turned to the boy and narrowed his eyes. Milo stared ahead, not daring to meet those blue slits.
"If she even starts to catch on, I'll kill you. Remember boy; I'm in charge here. I could kill you at anytime, and nobody would care. Yeah, she'd cry, but then she'd get over you. So don't even think about getting smart!" He sneered at Milo, who unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out of the car. It was speeding away as soon as his door was closed.
At school, Milo ran into Molly in the hallway. She had her arm looped in Jason's and waved cheerfully at him when she spotted him. He nodded an acknowledgement and continued past the couple. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Jason's hand was wrapped up in bandages. He smirked.
The day passed quickly, leaving Milo little time to think about his father's threat until that evening. His family sat around the dinner table, silently eating the meal he had prepared. He finished early and asked to be excused early.
"Why?" His father's voice dripped with suspicion. Milo turned to him and narrowed his eyes defensively.
"I have a project in science that's due on Friday and I want to start on it as soon as possible. I'll be in the garage." With that, he turned and left the room.
He flicked on the lights and walked over to his father's car. It was a cherry red sports car; only two doors. Milo opened the hood and peered at the contents beneath. He walked over to the tool bench and selected a pair of wire cutters. He returned to the car and located the brake line. A quick snip and he was again walking back to the tool bench.
Next he selected a wire stripper. He stripped and cut a few wires, crossing the ones he deemed appropriate and connected them in a tangled knot. He walked back to the tool bench to select his final tool.
A few hot wires and a leaking gas tank were the final fruits of his labor. He wiped his hands clean on a shop towel and walked back into the house. He walked down the hallway and into the bathroom. When he was sure that he had washed the smell of gasoline and oil from his body he walked to his room for the night.