We were up on the bluff on our motorcycles, and I could hear all of them revving and saw the smoke from the exhaust blowing by us. Johnny was staring down at Ali and some kid she was flirting with, and I looked down, too. She was laughing, leaning into him, and from here he looked like some tall skinny kid with black hair. Johnny was glaring at him, this intense look in his eyes. I pitied that kid, because he had it coming. He dared to mess with Johnny's ex-girlfriend.

"Let's go, guys," Johnny said, leaning over the bike, barreling down the bluff. We all followed. Johnny was the leader of our group of friends. He was toughest and coolest. In karate class he was easily the best. But he had that leadership quality, that ability to pull everybody in and make them follow him. I wasn't like that. I was more, I don't know, a one on one kind of guy.

Ali heard us before she saw us and I saw her kick the soccer ball away so the kid she was flirting with would go get it, and not be here when Johnny and all his rage arrived. Ali knew what was going on. She knew she was still fully in the circle of Johnny's attention.

He wanted to talk to her and he got in her face, and man was she cold to him. I'd heard all about their break up, all the fights they had, how Johnny basically wrecked the whole thing. She'd never forgive him. She wasn't about to forgive him now. It was what he wanted, through all that bravado and tough guy act he wanted her back. Wasn't going to happen, but you couldn't tell Johnny that. You couldn't tell Johnny anything.

I watched him try to talk to her, how he pulled on her arm and she yanked out of his grasp, and I saw the tall kid come back with the soccer ball just as Johnny pulled her radio away from her and threw it to the ground. He came over to intervene and I thought, 'wrong move, kid, Johnny will annihilate you,'

"Hey, what's going on?" the kid said, and he sounded like he was from New York or New Jersey or something, somewhere on the east coast. He sounded like New Yorkers sound on T.V. and in the movies. I gazed at the developments, gazed at the kid as Johnny pounded on him, beating him solidly. That kid looked like he might be like a street kid, you know? Like a kid who hangs out in New York City or something, but he wouldn't have a chance against Johnny. Johnny was strong, and he'd been training at karate for years.

We drove away but I glanced back at that kid, who was lying face down in the sand, writhing in pain. He didn't deserve that. He didn't do anything except talk to Ali, flirt with Ali. Johnny wasn't dating her or anything, they were broken up. She was free game.

Johnny was still in a complete rage as we pulled up to a pizza joint for a few slices. I took my helmet off and shook out my blond hair. Johnny's hair was blond, too, but lighter than mine.

"Did that kid really deserve that?" I said to him, trying to keep the cheese from sliding off my pizza. Johnny turned to me fast, his blue eyes blazing.

"Yeah, he did. He tried to mess with me, he, he was all over Ali…"

"But you aren't seeing her anymore-"

"Bullshit. We'll get back together, and I don't need some punk from fucking New York or wherever he's from screwing everything up,"

I let it go, but I saw the flaw in Johnny's thinking. This kid had nothing to do with it. Johnny was the one who screwed everything up with her. But it was gonna suck for this kid, because now Johnny's anger at losing Ali had a target, him. Things would get worse for him, I knew that. Johnny would target him, mess with him, beat him up again, probably a few times.

I finished my pizza and quit thinking about it. It wasn't any skin off my nose. So a punk kid from the east coast would end up taking a few beatings, so what?