Free Shackled by Tom Leveen

it.
    â€œSo I give you a hand,” he said with faux thoughtfulness, “ twice , in fact . . . you flip out on me, and then you ask me out.”
    â€œI’m not asking you out.”
    â€œThen what are you doing?”
    â€œI’m apologizing! I want to make it up to you.”
    â€œSo the apology itself isn’t good enough?”
    â€œIf you say it is . . . I don’t know! God! I just want to do the right thing, okay? I’m sorry!”
    David didn’t say anything for a minute. I moved to the sink and began washing it furiously. Stupid. It was a stupid idea. Make friends with David Harowitz, yeah, great.
    â€œYou ever hear of a place called Orange Table?”
    I paused, and threw the rag aside. “No.”
    â€œIt’s at the Civic Center, you know where that is? By the library?”
    â€œOkay, yeah . . .”
    â€œThey make this burger called the Arrogant Bastard,” David said. “It’s, like, eleven bucks. It’s my favorite burger in the entire galaxy. Hook me up with one of those, and we’ll call it even.”
    I kicked at the splash mat with one toe. “Really?”
    â€œReally and truly.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. “When’s good for you?”
    â€œHow about tonight?”
    â€œNo, no, no,” I said. “No. Sorry. Not at night.”
    â€œYou got a date or something?” David said.
    I didn’t answer. He hadn’t heard me correctly. Now what?
    David waited for me. I couldn’t read his expression.
    Tonight, I thought. At night. Go out at night. I hadn’t done that in years. Maybe once or twice, here and there with Mom or Dad, but it never went well. Once the sun set, my pulse doubled if I walked as far as our driveway. Someone could drive by, grab me . . .
    â€œTonight?” I said, but it was only a squeak. I cleared my throat. “Tonight,” I said again. “Um. Sure. Okay.”
    I had to do it sometime. I had this job; I’d ditched my meds; maybe one night out would bring me one step closer to being able to get back to school. And that would make me normal.
    â€œI suppose the irony here is that you’ll need a ride,” David said.
    Shit , I thought.
    â€œWell . . . kinda.”
    He sort of laughed through his nose. “So be it,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. I felt like saying thank you but didn’t. I wasn’t sure what I’d mean if I did.
    It wasn’t until later that I realized that everything I’d said could possibly be construed as a date, despite emphasizing that I was not asking him out.
    That made for an interesting afternoon of work. But at leastit kept me from thinking about the darkness, about the night. What if I flipped out again? What if he said the hell with it and left me alone out there . . . ?
    I smoked a quarter pack of cigarettes before my shift ended.
    When I got home, Jeffrey was at his post in front of the TV with some explosive video game. I didn’t say anything as I walked by, consumed with deconstructing what had happened with David at work.
    It didn’t seem to bother Jeffrey that I’d ignored him, because no sooner had I gotten to my room than he barged straight in. In fairness, I hadn’t closed the door yet.
    â€œWhat’s up?” Jeffrey said
    â€œI’m going out to dinner with David Harowitz,” I said, mostly to my carpet.
    â€œDavid, the guy who drove me to Liam’s?” Jeffrey asked excitedly. “Cool! Can I come?”
    â€œUh, no,” I said. “Get out.”
    Jeffrey folded his arms. “No.”
    â€œJeffrey . . .”
    â€œYou’re so bitchy sometimes,” Jeffrey declared.
    I sat down on the edge of my bed so I’d be level with his eyes, then blinked as I realized he was already taller than me when I sat. I could’ve sworn just