And I am, whatever you say I am
If I wasn't, then why would I say I am?
In the paper, the news everyday I am
Radio won't even play my jam
Cause I am, whatever you say I am
If I wasn't, then why would I say I am?
In the paper, the news everyday I am
I don't know it's just the way I am

They Way I Am, Eminem

Candy-Coated.::

WARNING: Language, violence, and horrible driving.

"Go, go, go!" Josh Hotz yells as I lay on the horn and speed off. He rolls up the window as we laugh and high-five eachother.

"Our best one yet." Josh smiles and nods his head.

"Okay, guys. Checklist." I shake my head, still laughing.

"Mailbox gone?"

"Check." Chris Plovert snickers, his caramel brown too-long hair moving slightly.

"Tires slashed?"

"Taken care of." Griffin Hastings smiles menacly, bearing his teeth like a dog.

"Windows on the cars?"

"Done." Josh smiles sideways.

"And I got the windows on the house." I smile menacly, looking forward onto the dark road.

"Another fancy party ruined, thanks to the Black Jaguars!" Griffin yells, and we all whoop and holler.

"But the car might have to go soon." Josh looks out the windsheild at the rusted hood of the black-chipping-paint car.

"What? This baby's fine!" Plovert goes to open the passenger seat mirror, which falls onto his lap.

"Yeah, sure." Griffin rolls his eyes and sits back on the navy ripping-pleather back seat.

"We've had this baby since we started this. She's been with us through everything." I rub the steering wheel.

"Yeah, well, let's get home. We have school in the morning. And guess whose tired?" Josh asks, and everyone but me says "Me!"

"Fine." I stomp on the breaks.

"My stop." Plovert jumps out of the car and closes the rusting door quietly. I see him climb up to his treehouse, and onto his deck and into his room. I speed off. The ride to Griffin's is silent, and he climbs out when we get to his 2 story home. He does the same procedure as Plovert and I speed off. Josh hops in the front seat.

"Derrick," The hispanic boy says my name, sounding worried.

"Hmm?"

"How long do you think we can keep this up?" He asks. I turn.

"What do you mean?" I ask. I see him start to get worried.

"This." He holds up one of the wooden baseball bats. "Without anybody knowing who we are. God damnit, we go to school with the kids' houses and car's were wrecking. 2 years man, 2 freaking years. And-"

"Josh. That's the point. 2 years. And we haven't gotten caught. We haven't told anyone." I shake my head in slight pride, and smile.

"But I want to be in a relationship, okay? But I can't. With you guys-"

"Josh!" I snap.

"Whatever," He shakes his head as I come to a stop in front of his 2-story suburban looking home, and he steps out of the car. I drive off.

For 2 years, since I was 14, me and my 3 best friends have been The Black Jaguars.

We are mass-destruction to high-society prisses here in Westchester, New York. We wreck houses. We wreck parties. We wreck cars.

We wreck reputations.

But the thing is, nobody knows that Me, Derrick Harrington, and my 3 best friends, Josh Hotz, Griffin Hastings, and Chris Plovert are the Black Jaguars, they just think we're a group of middle-class boys in Westchester High School, otherwise known as WHS.

I pull up to the empty garage behind my house, and park the car and shut the metal garage door. I do the same procedure the other 3 boys did, and climb into my home, and hear my mom in the next room struggling to get my little 5-year-old twin sisters, Layne and Allie, to go to sleep. I hear my 18-year-old brother, Harris, playing Guitar Hero in the room across the hall, and my 14 year old sister, Sammi, on the phone with her current boyfriend in the other room next to mine.

But no Dad. He's been gone for 5 years. When the twins were born. My mom, raising 2 5-year-olds, 2 teen boys, and a 14 year old girl, single-handedly is amazing. It's hard for her, with me sneaking out, my brother locked in his room all day, doing God-knows-what, out-of-hand twins screaming all day, and my sister looking up to my mother, who had Harris at the age of 14.

I'm close with my sister. She tells me everything. About who she's dating, what she's done, and how she feels.

And she's the only person who knows I'm a Black Jaguar.

I lay down on my bed and rest my soccer ball on my chest, Josh's words echoing in my head.

But I want to be in a relationship

So do I. My sister always is. I don't wanna end up like my Mom, or brother.

I take my iPod off of my nightstand and blast Eminem.

The whole gang thing is overwhelming.

But a leader can't back out.

But I sure as hell can't wait to see what's gonna be on the news tomorrow about The Black Jaguars.

It's what I live for.

I got this idea watching a Free Credit Report dot comm commercial :]

I have some good ideas.

Sorry it's short. Just an opener, to see if anyone likes it.

The Black Jaguars was a very random name. I was thinking of Florida for some god-forsaken reason and I thought of the panthers they have there. Then I thought of Jaguars.

So do you likee ? Revieww !

~makayla !