Not Another Teen Romance Story
I know i'm not typical. I don't really like shopping. I don't read fashion magazines or use makeup. I don't like the who's dating who gossipful conversations. I like to read, but not romance novels. Ick. Mystery and sports fiction. I like playing and watching basketball. I like video games and action movies. Not typical for a girl of fourteen. There's a word for people like me. Tomboy.
Thus, it's more than a little surprising that my best friend is one of those girly girls. We have very little in common. For me, even my name, Erin, sounds like it could be a boy's name. For Nichole...well, all that stuff I said about myself in the beginning? Yeah, reverse that. She loves all that girly stuff, especially shopping. Thus, the shopping trip we went on that fateful day (By the way, I say "Thus" a lot, it's kinda my thing right now. I go through these stages where I end up overusing a word or phrase like crazy, that's my current one. The last one was "for sure". I also ramble a lot...yeah...doing it now I guess.).
Well, even though I don't like shopping, Nichole is super fun to be around, so I make compromises. Even though she's drop-dead gorgeous and uber-popular, she's not even a little bit stuck up. Well, maybe a little bit. But seriously, she's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. And even though she puts on the dumb blond bombshell act sometimes (and she totally has the looks to pull it off), she's really smart. And funny. Thus, (I told you I say it a lot) shopping with her falls short of being the sheer torture it is when I shop alone, or with anyone else, like Mom (ugh!).
So we spent a few hours shopping, but we didn't buy much, because we had to carry it while walking home, because we're both fourteen and don't have Driver's Licenses yet and...oh wait. You want to hear all the gory little details about what we bought, and what we tried on and all that stuff? Well, too bad. I may have to suffer through all of that to spend a few hours hanging with my BFF, but that doesn't mean I have to remember it all for YOU. And that's even if I could, which I couldn't, since I wasn't even paying attention at the time. So there. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, walking home with our bags. At night. In retrospect, not the smartest thing in the world for a couple of beautiful girls to be doing. Well, at least one of us was beautiful. But yes, not smart. And the road to my house happened to be a low-traffic area, or whatever you call it when you don't see people much on that road, so that made it even less smart. In fact, here's a warning, people. DO NOT DO WHAT WE DID! I learned my lesson the hard way, don't you do the same thing. Luckily, I...well, we'll get to that in a sec.
So there we were, walking down the road, when this car comes up beside us and slows down. The driver's window went down, and there's this kinda hot guy somewhere in his 20's who says, "Hey girls, you need a ride?"
And of course, we're like, "No thanks." I mean, we were dumb, but no one's THAT dumb, right?
"You're sure? You've got all those bags to carry. It would be no trouble."
And I hear just a hint of an accent in his voice. And I'm like, soooo much nope going on here. So I say, "No, we're fine. My house is close. Like, really really close." It wasn't really all that close, unfortunately.
That's when things went bad. He shrugged, and yelled something in some other language (I'm really, REALLY bad at foriegn languages, so I don't even know if it was Russian or German or Spanish or whatever. Something not American or English or Austrailian, cause I can recognize those three.) and two guys popped out of the car. OF COURSE the bigger one went for Nichole.
For some reason I still don't know to this day, I didn't panic. I acted scared and helpless as the other one approached me, sneakily positioning myself, and when he let his guard down, WHAM! With this strange, calm detachment, I realized I was going to have to wash that knee off very thoroughly, even as I was slamming into the guy trying to drag Nichole into the car. He was a really big guy, and I was just a scrawny fourteen-year-old girl, but I was kicking and biting and fighting with all my strength, and his partner was barely able to drag himself to the car, and Nichole was screaming for help at the top of her lungs, so he made a decision to abandon the big prize in favor of not getting caught. A bird in the hand, or whatever, as my dad would say. The driver tossed him a blanket and he wrapped me up, and I couldn't do anything no matter how I struggled. As I was tossed into the back of the car, I was already kissing my life goodbye, but I took comfort in knowing that Nichole got away.
Then, just as the car door slammed shut and the car began to move, I heard shouting and struggling and felt the impact of bodies slamming into me. I couldn't see anything, but I could tell some kind of fight was happening. I heard the driver say "Just shoot him!", and then I heard a scream, and someone say "My arm! MY ARM!" and then someone grabbed me and yanked me from the still-moving car. Whoever it was wrapped their arms tightly around me as we rolled across the road.
We lay still for a few seconds, then the person picked me up and carried me to the curb. I was set down on the curb, and the blanket was unwrapped. Now, let me clarify my next statement by saying that I almost NEVER use the word 'hot' to describe a person. The first thing I saw when my vision cleared was the face of the hottest guy I had ever seen in my life.