Why Is She Taking So Long?

During recess, in their usual spot under the old willow tree, Lucy took Marco's face in her hands. Anxiety was a tense line along his jaw. She leaned in and kissed him, a soft, slow kiss meant to calm him.

"Everything will be fine," she whispered against his lips. "Trust me."

Marco nodded, although the beast of jealousy and nervousness continued to roar inside him. Later, that same beast reared up when Javier cornered him by the lockers.

"Hey, Marco," he said with a smarmy grin. "Don't think I've forgotten about my prize. I'm still waiting for that picture."

Marco's gaze hardened. Before he could respond, Javier let out a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder, as if it were all a big joke.

"Relax, man! I'm kidding," he said, trying not to make Marco feel bad, though the truth was the desire to see that picture was burning inside him. "Forget it."

Marco just remained silent. He wasn't going to tell him it wasn't a joke. He wasn't going to confess that the plan was far more real and intense than he could ever imagine, and that Lucy, in person, was willing to show him not just any picture, but the one he desired.

The final bell rang like a **** sentence. Marco went to the meeting point, the deserted hallway by the north bathrooms, and waited. And waited. The waves of students turned into a trickle, and then into an almost total silence. A little over fifteen minutes had passed. Lucy didn't appear. Neither did Javier.

A bad feeling, cold and sticky, took hold of him. What if they had gone somewhere else? A more private place? His treacherous mind began to paint scenarios that made his stomach churn.

Panicked, he headed to the other end of the school, to an older, more remote section of bathrooms that almost no one used. Perhaps they had chosen that spot for more discretion. He entered the men's room, his heart in his throat. The echo of his own footsteps was the only answer. No one was there.

Defeated, he decided to return to the agreed-upon spot, hoping against all hope that there had simply been a misunderstanding. As he walked back down the now completely empty hallway, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a message from Lucy.

Lucy: Where are you?

Relief washed over him, but it was fleeting.

Marco: I was looking for you. I went to the men's room on the other side of the building, thought you guys might be there.

Her reply took a few seconds to arrive, and when it did, each word was like a drop of ice on the back of his neck.

Lucy: Haha, no. I was here, at the bathrooms we agreed on. Javier already left. He left very happy, by the way. It's just that a very peculiar idea came up.

That response paralyzed him. Very happy. A very peculiar idea. The phrases bounced in his head, taking on increasingly dark and torturous meanings. What idea? What had they done to make Javier leave "very happy"? The uncertainty was a thousand times worse than having seen everything.

He quickened his pace and finally saw her, waiting for him at the end of the hall, her backpack slung over her shoulder and a calm expression on her face. When they met, they began to walk in silence towards the school exit. The normality of their pace contrasted with the chaos Marco felt inside.

Once outside, under the golden afternoon light, the silence became too heavy to bear. Marco looked at her, a silent question in his eyes. She met his gaze, and a small, enigmatic, and nervous smile played on her lips.

"I suppose," she said, as they turned the corner towards her house, "you'll want to know exactly what happened."