San Diego - Rodrick 2

A few days later, I hear my doorbell ring and it is Rodrick in his black Steelers t-shirt with the low-hanging neckline and pulled up white socks.

"Hello Rodrick, how are you doing," I ask.

"Hi Jeremy," he begins, and then looks to the side nervously. "I have a favor to ask, but maybe I won't ask it."

"What is it?" I answer, hoping that he isn't about to ask me to knock somebody off for him or something crazy like that.

"Well," he begins as he looks in my direction, still not making eye contact with me, "I need to go to the bank on 5th and University and it's really cold outside and it's just that my back starts to ache when it's cold. And the bus comes every twenty minutes," looking up at me, he concludes: "I was hoping you might give me a ride?" Then, thinking for a moment he adds, "Do you even have a car?"

I let out a quiet snort of amusement at his question and answer, "No, I don't have a car." An image of me jogging to the store, carrying Rodrick on my back, appears and then disappears quickly.

"But Tim has a car. When Tim comes back a bit later, we'll take you to the bank."

"No, it's all right," Rodrick says with a slight tinge of resignation, "I can just take the bus, it's not a problem."

"No, we will take you. Really."

"No, I don't want to trouble you."

I resist the urge to grab him and shake him while shouting "We'll give you a ride god damnit, now stop being ridiculous!" and instead say, "Let me get your phone number so I can call you when Tim gets back."

His smile breaks into a genuine smile of relief as I walk inside to get a pen. "Thanks Jeremy," he says.

"Actually, it's John."

"How do you spell that?"

"Let me write it down for you," I say as I reach for another yellow stick-it.

I hand him my phone number and he turns to leave. Abruptly, his eyes widen and he asks, "Do you want to see my house?"

I look at him and say "Sure."

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