Leaning against the cold driver’s door of her parents Buick, the girl tapped her heel into the asphalt, waiting. It was just a fling. Just a thing… that she needed. Her boyfriend would understand, he had to. She would tell him about it, later on in their life. It would not break the relationship.

They had always said they would never go that far, not until they were older. She would not force her boyfriend to break his promise. But, she needed this. Just a quick fling, a night of fun, just to get it out of her system. Then things would go back the way they were.  She had called up an old friend, an old acquaintance, really. Someone from school. She had to look up his number in the phone book, after looking up his name in her year book. But, he would do. He understood.

She jabbed her red heel into the asphalt again, her nerves becoming anxious. Where the hell was he? It was getting cold.

She pulled her black cardigan against her chest and shivered. Red shoes, black sweater, blue dress. She did not even like the heels she was wearing, but she figured they would do. The dress was short, with thin material that was really meant for summer. But, summer was no where near this month, in either direction.

It would do the job, though. It was a dark blue, and the friend had a blue shirt on in the year book. It seemed to fit. Blue was probably his favorite color. It was a long shot, but it was either blue or black with most boys.

In any case, it would do its job and get the blood working, which was the point of the evening. She wanted to make it easy for him.

Another five minutes, and she would leave, call it quits, and spend the night on the sofa with a tub of chocolate ice cream.

He pulled up in a black pickup two minutes later, and she jumped in, without looking at him. As he talked, she adjusted the hem of her dress, and the direction of the heater vents to warm up her bare legs.

“So… um… ” The friend cleared his throat, hoping it would clear the air as well. “So, you want to get something to eat?”

“Sure.”

“Pizza okay? We can go back to my place, and-”

“Whatever you want.” Her eyes stared at the dashboard, and never once moved in his direction.

“… okay.” A loud exhale came from the friend to her left, and the truck started moving again as they headed back to his place.

She turned her head to look out the window when he had begun to talk again. “Ive got some old movies. We could watch one if-”

“Fine.”

“… Okay. My parents are going out, and wont be home until late. I was thinking we could-”

“Whetever.”

The truck slowed down and pulled to the side of the road. “You know, you could show a little bit of interest.” He had turned to face her as he attempted to plead for her to care about his feelings, too. “Im not just some guy you can-”

“If you dont want to, then you can drop me off back at my car.” Facing the friend now, her long eyelashes did not flutter once.

He stared for another moment or two, then the truck pulled back onto the road with another loud sigh, and they continued down the path to his parent’s house.

The drive was not long, but awkward enough for her to pick up on his uncomfortable thigh tapping. Her legs now warm, the girl stretched her feet out, mentally trying to reach the padded wall of the engine with her toes.

She felt her friend let off the gas, and slowly ease into the break.

The right tires bumped against the sidewalk, and her torso jolted forward, her shoulder strap viciously yanking back again. The friend mumbled a “sorry”, and shut the engine off. She listened to him fiddle with his own seatbelt, trying to unlatch it too quickly.

When he was finally free, he opened the driver’s door, and slammed it once he was out. His boots crunched the asphalt and grass as he rounded to the other side, and opened her door for her. The rush of the cold air against her thighs jaggedly made its way up her dress to her spine, and she gave up on ever reaching the engine.

Her legs swung to the side, and she let her feet dangle as she unbuckled. The girl slipped down the seat, and out of the truck, her dress raising up in the back as her red heels hit the sidewalk.

She stood there, turned to her right, moved under his left arm, and headed to the front door, never once looking his way to confirm that he was still staring at her.

The girl tightened her grip around her arms, the wet grass making her toes cold. She would be warm soon. The friend walked behind her, possibly still looking at her. Which was good, it would get the blood flowing. That was what tonight was about. Blood.

It was an average two story house, with a nice front yard, and a newer Buick in the driveway.

Her eyes looked to the front door, then the front porch, and she stopped just below both. He stopped as well, like an echo in her footsteps. Then, he went around her, and opened the front door, stepping in first and not turning around to see if she would follow.

Her heels clicked against the cement and the girl stepped over the threshold without another thought.

Inside was warm like she had imagined it to be. The walls were a light peach in the hallway, adorned with pictures, and splattered with yellow light from the kitchen.

He walked passed them without much thought, and held a hand behind his back, like a comforting gesture. If the girl felt uneasy, she could always take it. She understood why he had done it, but he was trying too hard.

The living room was a worse yellow than the kitchen, framed with stark white trim.

The friend slipped off his jacket, and tossed it at a chair in the corner. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.” He motioned to the sofa, then watched her walk around it to sit. “Would you like something to-”

“Sure.”

She heard him exhale.

“What would you-“

“Soda. If you have it.” No hint on a flavor. She liked the carbonation more, anyway.

“Alright.” He inhaled deeply, and stood for a moment, too. “I’ll order pizza, too. What kind-”

“Whatever you want.” Sitting on the sofa, she stared at the blank TV screen, and the friend stood, unmoved.

When he finally did move, he turned right to the kitchen, and she watched his reflection in the TV exit the room, shaking his head.

Looking down at her red heels, she tapped one heel on one big toe, then tapped her other heel on her other big toe. Then, she lifted her legs up and to her left, tucking them to the side as she went back to the TV. It was not as warm in here as she had imagined.

Through the reflection in the TV, the girl watched the friend’s mother and stepfather come in the hall and stop, so she could fix his tie.

His mother wore yellow, with curled brown hair, and his stepfather wore grey slacks and wire framed glasses, of which he pushed back up the bridge of his nose when he turned and stared at the girl, through the reflection of the TV.

The friend returned, said a few words to his mother and stepfather before they left, then rounded the sofa from the right and took his place next to the girl.

He opened a Pepsi and passed it her way, before opening another and slurping it. Then, he grabbed the remote, and fiddled with it until the TV began to play an old black and white. The girl drank her soda without slurping, staring at the screen as the scene unfolded before her.

Another few slurps from his soda before it was set aside again, and he rested his arm behind her, on the sofa, then his arm over her shoulder, then her shoulder against his chest, in an attempt to get comfortable and get himself in the mood.

Fifteen minutes into the movie, she removed the soda from her lips and rested the empty can in his lap, never once taking her eyes off the screen.

She heard him scuff, and he lifted it up. “Would you like another-”

“Sure.”

The friend sighed once more, and moved his arm. Then, he got up without pausing, and headed into the kitchen one more.

The front door opened and closed, and he paused in the hallway to say a few words to whomever was there.

“I thought you had left?”

“I forgot something.”

Satisfied, the friend continued on the quest for more soda, and his stepfather’s reflection appeared in the hallway, through the TV.

The girl felt along the strap around her sore ankle, and looked down to massage it gently. Footsteps awkwardly made their way to the living room, and a hand touched her shoulder, pulling back the black sweater as the stepfather rounded the sofa. “You came back to me, my precious.” He said, his eyes full of such delight, as his other hand rested on her thigh.

Caught between screaming and yelling, the girl coughed on her breath, then reached for the nearest weapon she could grab. With no regret, she gripped the scissors tightly, and brought them up so high, before standing and plunging them deep within his chest.

The friend’s stepfather fell back, shock in his eyes, as blood pooled from his back to her shoes.

The cops were called. At least, she assumed they had been called. All she could see was red and blue, like her dress and shoes.

From the living room, where the stepfather lay, and the girl stood, through the peach hallway, and into the dim yellow kitchen, a stack of children’s drawings rested in an old box, from the friend’s preschool days. Under the stack, one of the last drawings depicted a picture of a young girl in blue, hiding under the stairs, and a man with glasses in red, coming down to greet her.