You Were Supposed
by Bill Baber
I had been in love with
Suzy Foster since
second grade. Now, we were seniors in high school, and she still acted like she
didn’t know me, despite the fact that we were in the same homeroom and shared a
history class together.
Suzy had always been one
of the popular girls.
When we got to high school she became a cheerleader. Over the years I had only
mustered up the courage to speak to her a handful of times, I was extremely shy,
and her beauty tied my tongue in knots. Each time she ignored me. Each time it
felt like she plunged a knife into my chest. Couldn’t she tell by the way I
looked at her how I felt? Didn’t she see me in the front row of the bleachers
at every football game, watching her do her cheer routines? Didn’t she
notice that I walked past her
house over and over, or that I followed her doggedly through the halls at
I didn’t know what
else to do to get her to
Not long after the school
year started she
began dating Dan Coates—the quarterback on the football team. He was everything
I wasn’t. I was short, skinny, and had a bad case of acne. I rode a bicycle to
school. Dan was tall, strong, and extremely handsome and drove a Camaro. He was
like a lion everyone admired and I was a feral cat no one wanted.
The night of the homecoming
game, they were
voted king and queen. That really stung. I had always considered her as my
princess. There was a party after the game that night. The Grove was a wooded area
out on the edge of town. My parents were out that night, and I took my father’s
pistol from its hiding place in the closet, tied a flashlight to the handlebars
of my bike, and rode there.
I stashed the bike just
off the road and snuck
through the trees. In a small clearing, a bonfire illuminated the scene. There
were fifty or so kids there, more boys—most football players—than girls. Led
Zeppelin played from someone’s car. All the boys and some of the girls were
drinking cans of beer.
Suzy and Dan stood near
the center of the
gathering. Dan had thrown a touchdown
pass late in the game to seal the win. He and some of the other boys kept
replaying it while Suzy clung to him, all the while gazing at him with
unbridled admiration. I was so disappointed in her. My princess couldn’t be
that shallow, could she?
After an hour or so, the
party began to break
up. Soon, Suzy and Dan were the only ones left. They stood face-to-face near
the fire, entwined in one another’s arms.
It was supposed to be me holding her. They began to kiss. Those lips
were supposed to belong to me. I could feel the anger rise in my chest.
They made their way to his
climbing into the back seat. In the flickering light of the fading fire, I
watched them kiss some more. Then I saw her head bobbing up and down in his lap.
For a moment I thought I would be sick, but another wave of anger pushed that
feeling away. She was supposed of been pure.
Moments later, Dan was on
top of her, pumping
away. I could hear her animal-like groans.
This shouldn’t be
happening, I thought. She was supposed to be mine. She was supposed to have saved
herself for our wedding night. I hated her now. The thought of what she had
become repulsed me. She was a dirty whore.
I walked up to the car.
The passenger door was
open. I pointed my father’s pistol at the back of Dan’s head and pulled the
trigger. Suzy and I were covered in his blood.
She looked at me and screamed.
She sure as hell
knew who I was now, but I no longer cared.
“You were supposed
to be mine,” I said quietly.
I pulled the trigger again
and repeated, “You
were supposed to be mine.”
Baber’s crime fiction
and poetry have appeared widely online and in numerous anthologies. His writing
has earned Derringer Prize and best of the Net consideration. A book of his
poetry, Where the Wind Comes to Play, was published by Berberis Press in
2011. He lives in Tucson with his wife and a spoiled dog and has been known to
cross the border for a cold beer. He is working on his first novel.