Long Story

Their friendship was fated. The three of them met in college through mutual friends. Greg and John met through their rambunctious hall-mates and Sydney joined in when the three met in one of the large intro classes every college freshman was required to take. They hit it off that first week, they happened to sit together that first day and never bothered to change seats afterwards. They’d talk about the professor’s outfit that day or how college was or wasn’t different than what they expected. The jokes that were made between the three of them were never ending.
Sydney was the type of girl listens to her iPod and dances in her chair while doing her homework in the library and the type of girl who would run around in the rain with her arms outstretched. She disliked stereotypes; she didn’t believe stereotypes in the slightest and was easily offended and perturbed when jokes were made about them. Greg was charismatic and personable and a bit of a smooth talker but no one held that against him. He was the out of state one who worked harder on maintaining the wellbeing of his friends and family more than he did for his schoolwork, which showed by the ever growing pile of unfinished homework on his desk. Adam could smooth talk any smooth talker but he was also the guy who gave everything he had to his friends. Whether it was lending money or staying up to three in the morning helping a friend write and edit a paper, he never hesitated to be a good friend but this would backfire sometimes and his generosity would get taken advantage of. Together the three of them balanced themselves out, like yin and yang plus one.
Like any other friends they had their fights, mostly though the fights were between Sydney and Greg. Sydney would get upset when Greg would make some comment about how the reason certain people are stingy because they’re Asian or Mexican so they’re lazy, leaving John to eventually be the peace keeper.
One night the three of them went out to get a midnight snack as all college students do if they have access to a car. They drove out a ways to their favorite 24-hour fast food place that they always went to when the other food places were closed. It was farther than most places they went to and in a shadier part of town, but it was always open. This food place understood that hunger doesn’t have any regard for normal business hours. Tonight, though, it was still early only a little after midnight and Sydney was craving one of their greasy beef burritos. It was unusually chilly that night so the friends decided to head through the drive-thru instead of getting out to walk in. They waited behind an old Audi while placed its order in front of them then they eased forward to the glowing sign of deliciousness.
“How’s this?” John asked Greg as he rolled the driver’s window of his Mustang down so there was an opening of only two inches, “No one can shoot us from here.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Sydney says rolling her eyes, getting a little irritated at the undeserved remark.
Before Greg could back John up, the female voice from within the glowing sign asked for their order and John had to roll the window down more for the three of them to order. “Your total is $16.84. Thank you,” was the last thing they heard before John rolled his window up again.
“Ooh, it’s so cold. I thought Southern California is supposed to be warm all year round,” John said as he drove forward to wait behind the car paying for its food at the window.
“It’s not that bad,” Greg commented and fiddled with his friend’s radio system. He switched the station to one that was playing some popular new song.
“Does this sound like Chris Brown to you?” John asked when the chorus started playing.
Greg pulled his hand back from the dial and leaned back in his chair, eyes closed listening, “Kinda, I guess. But no one’s playing his shit anymore.”
“I miss his voice. It’s so smooth and sexy,” Sydney said as she leaned forward from the back seat to join in on the conversation.
“You would like him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what that means.”
“Oh shut up, Greg. Don’t be jealous”
John just shook his head and laughed at his friends.
“You’re the jealous one. I bet you wish you were Rihanna. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Get yo’ ass beaten.” Greg retorted jokingly. The conversation continued on in a similar manner for a while more, the three of them just laughing at each other.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sydney saw someone approach the driver’s side of the car in a black zip-up hoodie. Tilting her head to the side she asked without “What do you think he’s doing?”
Before the boys could turn to look the man in the black zip-up hoodie and his two accomplices pounded on their car windows. Sydney’s eyebrows rose up and knotted themselves together causing crinkles to form across her normally smooth forehead, her mouth a large “O” and eyes widened as she the standing on John’s side of the car continued to bang on the window. All she could see was his pale neck and his fast moving chapped lips saying something to the window but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Whipping her head to the right, she saw a pair of dark baggy jeans with a white wife beater exposing muscular arms with an obscure tattoo on his left pale shoulder and another pair of jeans with a dark gray hoodie with a gold banded ring on his right hand banging on the window. Time slowed down. She heard the handles of the doors lift and snap back down from the outside, her eyes still wide and mouth open, not fully grasping what was happening. The men outside continued to hit the windows with their fists and pry at the doors but Greg had hit the lock switch on the inside of the car so the efforts outside were in vain. John threw the car in reverse and sped out backwards out of the drive-through. As their car was reversing, the men stepped back, mouthing some unfriendly words through narrowed eyes and moved on to the Audi still waiting at the window. She saw the man with the chapped lips grab at the door behind the driver’s door and open it while the other two banged on the car windows. Sydney’s eyes widened and as their Mustang peeled out towards the street to take them back home. Craning her neck, she barely saw the Audi peel out of the drive through as they had done leaving the three men empty handed.
Breathing hard, Sydney tried to mind her head around what had just happened. The three of them drove in silence.
Minutes passed. “Should I call the police?” Sydney asked.
Both boys nodded, staring straight ahead. No one said more than they had to, each deep in their own contemplations. With a shaky hand, she dialed 9-1-1.
“911, what is your emergency?” a woman with a bored, blasé voice asked.
“I’d like to report a…” She didn’t know what to say. What should she say or not say? Sydney didn’t finish her sentence.
“Hello? What are you trying to say?” the disinterested voice asked. Sydney handed the phone to Greg in the front.
She listened to Greg explain what had just happened and flinched at the line where he described the three Hispanic men. She cringed at the connotations the description had and wondered if the police officer on the line heard a lot of these reports daily. Did she believe in stereotypes?