40 Steps to Fate (23 Steps-WTF)

by Steven in Illinois

23 Steps

            Great.

            Another day of YouTube sensation reports. Apparently, every single reporter in town had come over to hear (but not see, luckily) the “action” we had yesterday, and that became the new talk.

            13 year olds losing their virginity. Honestly, how crazy had the world gotten to be this crazy? Gossip of something else, perhaps? Don’t be so interested in other people’s business, especially their…er, social life. I was purely frustrated with all that these people chose to throw at me, and that really didn’t help my situation. Even Matt, with his good old smugness, was dignified enough to say, “Sucks to be you, man.”

            Well.

            He was a horse’s ass.

            Jamie kept getting giggled around, and some even asked how was the “experience”. Jamie didn’t say anything, and eventually, they stopped. However, though most principals would immediately call us down and talk to us, with all the media floating around, our very own principal was smart enough to say “that won’t work”. Social buzz was honestly consuming the school and everything it had been, and if nobody even tried to raise a single finger to stop it, the school could collapse from and overwhelming amount of annoyance.

            “DON’T!” I said abruptly when one reporter was about to make a remark on the social buzz. “I suggest you delete that right now, off the report, or I’ll be after your blood for talking to me about that stuff. I could even classify it for sexual harassment and disrespect of my personal rights, and believe me, that will make you pay a hefty price,” I remarked calmly. The eerie silence following was a sign of success. The reporters didn’t even attempt to annoy me, and with 2 days left before the party, I really did have to go shop for a tux to wear to the party. I couldn’t show up with baggy jeans, especially since I was thinking there would indefinitely be a good amount of reporters there photographing us, posting things like, “Style with Teenage Kids” or something like that cheesy stuff nobody cares about.

            I decided to go with Matt to grab our stuff, and he helped me check off everything. “Tuxedo, Dress Shirt, Khaki Pants, Comb, Hair Paste and Gel, Clip Rose?” Matt asked. I smiled. “Check.” Then, Matt paused for a second. Suddenly, a smile crept onto the edge of his lips, and then he wrote something else down, then gave it to me.

            I won’t say what he wrote, only that it was annoyingly disgusting, and I ripped the checklist into shreds and tossed the pieces at his laughing face, which ended up swallowing about ¼ of the paper.

            My life felt accomplished.

On the way to the car ride home, Matt’s dad happily drove the car, laughing along with us, and talking about life. A bunch of things were covered by the time we reached the Main Street intersection…

            Except Matt’s dad was too late.

            Stopping in the middle of the road, I could literally see a semi-truck coming at us in slow motion. I cried out, and braced myself, but the force was a lot stronger than expected. All of us were tossed around like ragdolls as we spun in a circle around in the Hummer car Matt’s dad had. Managing to cling to one of the door handles, I unlocked the door in midair, opened it, then somehow jumped out. Matt’s dad copied, and so was Matt, except…

            The car crashed right onto the floor, crushing him before he could even leave. Matt’s dad cried out, then rushed forward as the truck driver got out. I ran to the car, and slowly, with help from arriving police, lifted the hunk of metal that was once a car. Matt laid there underneath, looking pale and lifeless.

            “I don’t know what happened,” Matt’s dad whispered. “There weren’t any stops before, so I didn’t really notice…but somebody messed with our brakes,” He started to sob, then managed to cough out, “I’m gonna kill the guy who killed my son.” I looked at him. “We don’t know if he’s dead yet, so don’t worry.” I said, comforting him.

            As if on cue, one of the officers came up to us. “Your son?” He asked Matt’s dad. He nodded. The look on the officer looked grim.

            “I’m afraid there was no heartbeat.”