This is one tough apple I've got here. I mean, I know apples are supposed to be a little crunchy and all, but come on. I'm digging my teeth so hard into this apple, just trying to take one measly bite, and that's just about the same time that Hal walks up to me.

"Damn, girl," he laughs, "you got a helluva apple there."

I ignore this, and dig that much harder, and with an audience I manage to tear off a massive bite that saves me from speaking for several long, beautiful moments as I chew.

But does this prevent Hal from sitting right next to me, so close I can smell the disgusting aftershave he must bathe in and can feel him pressed right up against my side? Of course not.

"How you been, darlin'? You been avoiding me or somethin'?"

What the hell do you think? I think angrily in his general direction. Of course I've been avoiding you. Any sane person in the world would avoid you if they could. But nobody wants to tell you off to your face, now do they? We're all too cowardly. Hal, he's got a temper, all right. Just ask Jenny.

"I saw you the other night," he says now, slapping a sweating hand onto my thigh, the fingers long and bony and pale, the palm almost translucent, "and you looked mighty fine, I gotta say."

Gee, thanks Hal. Because I sure was trying to impress you.

"And I saw—huh. What's-his-face. Looked like you two were havin' a mighty fine talk, seeing as you were sittin' awful close."

That was Joe, and he was worried about Jenny, because he hadn't heard from her in a while. Joe's a sweetheart, but he's put himself in an awful situation, because now he's got Hal in his life. Goddamn Hal.

"Hey honey, that apple go down the wrong way or somethin'? You're mighty quiet."

Hal can talk for miles and miles, but he's not oblivious. He forces you to talk to him, the bastard. So now, although I tried valiantly not to as I gnawed on this apple, I speak.

"I'm fine."

"So what's the deal with you and this feller? 'Bout time you settle down, honey, your pa's awful worried."

The day my father tells Hal about my love life is the day the sky rains down chocolate syrup. "Is he, now."

"Mmm-hmm, he sure is. But don't change the subject!" Hal guffaws, and moves his hand from my leg to put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me much closer to him than I ever want to be. "Now, who's this guy? Should I be worried?"

"No," I say flatly. "He's the...friend of a friend."

"Oho!" he cries out, as though he's unlocked a juicy secret, "he's got his own woman! You know her?"

"Ah—no, we've never met. But he...talks about her a lot," I say wildly.

Talking to Hal at the best of times is dangerous, because he's so incredibly unpredictable. But talking to Hal when Jenny could potentially come up? That's about as safe as kicking a sleeping rattlesnake's nest.

"Does he, now," purrs Hal. "That must make you jealous, huh?"

"No," I say. "Like I said, we're just friends."

"Mhmm, whatever you say darlin'. I was talking to your aunt Bertha the other day and—"

This is where I start to tune out—and this is where I make my biggest mistake.

"Where is she?" Hal's voice hisses in my ear, a low, terrifying voice that makes my skin crawl. "I know you hidin' her."

How did he find out? is the only thing I can think. How could he tell? I never said her name. Hal leans in towards me now, his jovial aura dissolved, his face colder than ice.

"Where she at?"

Oh God. I have no idea what to do, and even though I'm not a little kid anymore, not by a long shot, I'm scared out of my mind. My options are limited: I can either stay silent and risk the wrath of Hal; I can give up Jenny and sic Hal on her, a punishment I wouldn't give to my worst of enemies; or I can make a run for it. None of these sound great, but I can't see any other options.

In other words: I'm completely screwed.