Chapter 2: "Meeting"
Some cold stares met her as she made her way to the classroom, but she didn't care, she grew to live with being an inferior being to many men and women's eyes. It was something she never did understand anyway, and she never planned to. All there was in that superficial war was skin color and country. To most of these people she was an alien, another Americanized soul who didn't deserve neither the nation's name nor ideal.
What ever held that area in such a vice-like grip was something she didn't want to ponder on. No one ever truly did, she would say to herself. She closed his eyes, distinctly remembering what happened so long ago, her clothes being torn off her body, with children everywhere laughing and taunting. It was a memory she desperately suppressed. No one would ever laugh at her now though, as she proved herself to be a person who could hold her ground. A week's black eye and a couple of bruises once held as proof for that. If anyone ever laughed at her again, then they would know what was coming.
History graciously started with Mr. Legman tripping on his way to the teacher's desk. A tall balding man of forty, he always wore that same white short-sleeved polo shirt and a plain black tie that made him look more like a salesman than a teacher. No one cared about his blunder, no one even took notice that he entered. Nichole sat at the corner of the room, taking out a notebook when she noticed the teacher begin to write on the board. Half the class listened when he began to talk, while half of the class didn't. All the time, the teacher didn't care. All he was doing was filling in the time like he was supposed to. The topic for that day was the Hispanic existence in America at the time of 1492.
In a few minutes, Nichole began to doodle on her notebook, all the while keeping attention to the teacher's droning and monotonous voice. "God, I swear this man is getting duller everyday." Whispered a boy beside her. The sudden sense of invitation made her turn and look, to find a young blonde man smiling at her. "Hey, at least he tripped this time right? There's still hope that he's not completely a bucket of bolts." She whispered back with a big smile, causing the boy to chuckle. "Sorry, uh, hi, my name's Ben Chaplin." His smile grew even wider, resonating with a boyish charm. He wore a semi-fitted light blue shit and khakis.
"I'm Nichole Del Rosario, and…its nice to meet you."
"Yeah, first time I sat at the back of the class…I really can't take it when the guy spits when he talks."
"Well, thank God I don't sit on front."
"I guess I'm pretty lucky then."
"Why?"
"If I didn't sit back, I wouldn't be able to talk to you."
The sudden remark startled Nichole, and at the same time made her blush. "Uh, that's not something I hear everyday." She said with a giggle. "Um, are you stoned?" she asked, straightening her face. Ben didn't reply, but just nodded, cracking them both to muffled laughter. A few students' heads turned to both of them. "Looks like we're getting everyone's attention." Ben murmured. "Yeah." She responded, biting her lower lip. His green eyes sparkled each time they met with hers, which were distinctly brown. "What's your next class?" he asked, already oblivious to the teacher's continued monotony. "I've got Chem." She replied. "Oh, guess we won't be seeing each other for next period." He said with a glum expression. "What's your sched?" Nichole asked, leaning to her right to be able to be nearer to him. "I've got second period Algebra, third period Art class then I'm done for the day."
"Oh, I've still got classes after lunch."
"Well, uh, wanna meet somewhere? This lunch? Before your afternoon classes?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "…my treat." He added with a big smile that made Nichole's heart melt. "…Sure." She finally replied. "Great." he whispered, looking as if he made the greatest achievement on Earth.
After what seemed like mere minutes of chatter, the period was over, and the sound of the bell acted like a siren that tore through their senses. "…Well, see you at the Z square café?" she asked, standing up and slinging her backpack on her shoulder.
"I'm looking forward to it."
Nichole left the room with a beaming smile, it was the first time since she came here that someone actually looked genuinely interested in her. A Hispanic boy bumped into her, but she didn't really care, although the boy turned to look back at her. Carlos felt his heart jump when he saw the girl, something that didn't happen far too often.
"Hey there." Came a red haired girl who wore a black shirt and tight blue jeans. She ran her hand over Carlos' chest, giving off an electrifying sensation over his torso. "I heard you do a girl good service around these parts." She said with a devilish smirk. "There's a price." He retorted with a smile. The girl slid her hands up his cheeks and took off his earphones. They say you charge hard."
"Well, I'm going to give you a special discount." He replied, with his thick accent enticing the girl. "That accent of yours is driving me crazy!" she responded seductively. Everyone else seemed oblivious, save a few stares from passersby and some knowing glances. On the other side of the hall, a girl was crying to her best friend, telling her that she was pregnant. They garnered as much attention as Carlos and the girl, with the former now leaning on the wall, letting the latter lean on him. "Really, a discount?"
"I'd like to have your name first."
"The name's Erika."
"Well Erika, I'm actually just looking for some cash to grab a quick meal and probably sleep in a motel or something."
"A motel sounds good, but I really prefer…now." She pulled open a maintenance cabinet beside them and grabbed his shirt. With a big grin, she went in back first pulling Carlos in.
Bryan shut off his t28 cell phone and shoved it to his pocket. He wore a tight gray shirt tucked into dark blue jeans. Standing in the parking lot, he watched a few students go by. One girl was fighting with the other about something concerning their cute next-door neighbor. Huddled in a car, just two vehicles from were Bryan stood was a shocked boy who heard that his father just died. Just outside, a skin headed young man was violently pushed up the metal fence by police officers, creating a small crowd. Profanity could be heard from the boy's mouth, until it was violently swiped by a fat police officer's baton. Blood faded away in his black jacket, but lingered on his discolored brown shirt.
Everyday, a whole assortment of faces passed him by; not knowing what sort of life is hidden behind those dull or highlighted eyes. "Hey dude." Came another young blonde man, wearing a red tank top. He had a tattoo on his shoulder, a symbol reading "Beta Piriformis", identical to the tattoo on Bryan's shoulder blade. "Yo Justin, how are you doing?" he greeted, softly punching his fist against the other boy's. "Still healing from the shit those bastards threw at me."
"Still not over the whole brawl?"
"I swear man, Tyler intentionally hit me with that bat." He caressed his left temple, feeling the bandage there. "Come on man, he's a brother."
"Not to me."
"Whatcha all talkin about?" came a young bald African American who wore an orange jacket over a black shirt and blue elephant jeans.
"Just the Mustang parked up front Tyler. Damn she's a beaut." Quickly responded Bryan, knowing that there was a distinct enmity between the two. "Hey man, wassup?" Tyler asked Justin, looking indifferent when he shifted his gaze to the boy's bandage. "Just chilling." Justin replied. "Yo man, I'm really sorry about the whole bat thing, I mean that dude ducked…"
"Yeah, no need for explanations man, everything's cool." Replied Justin.
"Hey look, here comes Carlos." Pointed Bryan. The Latin boy's hair was a bit ruffled, and there was still the smell of sweat about him.
"Looks like he got himself laid again." Tyler announced.
"Yo Carlos, come here, we need to talk!" called Bryan. Carlos kept his earphones in his bag and made his way to them. Tyler crossed his arms over his chest, while Justin kept his on his waist.
"Hey guys, what's up?" he greeted, his accent prevailing over his choice of linguistics.
"We heard news that the kids from the other town are planning on a little discord here in our parts."
"You mean the Alpha Nares?"
"Yep, the guys we had the pleasure of brawling against two weeks ago."
"But we still don't know if it's just messin around, or if they just want to duke it out." Tyler added.
"I'm pretty sure that they'll be bringing some heavy weaponry when they get here, payback for the ass kicking they endured." Bryan stated calmly. "You think guns are in the picture?" asked Carlos.
"Not their style." Chided Justin. "Not ours." Added Bryan.
"But if we want to blow them back to their shit holes, then we need everyone a hundred percent. So maybe you getting all roughed up with every girl in this goddamned campus is a bad idea." Quickly commented Bryan, who eyed Carlos from head to foot. "Alright, I just needed some quick cash anyway." Quickly retorted the Latin boy. A look of disgust, although tried to keep hidden, was evident on Justin's face. "Anyways, there's going to be a meeting at the triangle alley tonight, our contact is going to have all the information we need by then."
The triangle alley was made of two narrow stretches that ran at an intersection and then met as one. From above, it would have looked like a triangle whose three sides extended to the streets. Blood red bricks covered each wall, with plenty of obstructions like crates and steel rods leaned on the sides. A few pipes stretched out from the buildings, right above the triangular middle ground, which was made of cracked cement and asbestos. Three steps worth of a small staircase elevated the widest stretch where the two paths met. Instantly to its left was a neglected streetlight. Some discarded long rectangular glasses were leaning on one side, opposite the main stretch, beside some trashcans that were over dumped. A steady mist had already formed that night.
Like vampires, the members of the Beta Piriformis slid to the triangle that they claimed as their council ground. Michael Terry sat on a crumpled folding chair below the streetlight. The young black haired man wore a brown leather jacket over a plain white shirt tucked into faded jeans. A woman leaned over him, keeping him protectively in her arms. She had shoulder length hair dyed red that perfectly accented her black leather jacket and jeans. Lorna Williams ran her hand against her lover's cheek. "How long do we have to wait?" she asked, feeling the weight of the short metal rod that she kept under her jacket in instance of battle. "Eric's going to be here, honey." He replied with an Australian accent. "Well, I don't see him anywhere." Reported an auburn haired youth who jumped down the three steps. The men and women that made themselves comfortable in the area began to moan. One man squatted on a baseball bat with the sticker "shit happens" plastered on it. Another leaned on the brick wall with a crowbar, besides a girl who sat on the steps carrying a wrench.
"Do you think they got him?" inquired an African American girl wearing a blue shirt and baggy jeans; she held a lead pipe with both hands.
"Always the one for the worst case scenario eh Elle?" commented Tyler who sat on a trash dump; still wearing the clothes he did earlier. Her name was Gabrielle, but they always called her Elle for short.
"Hell, I say expect the worse Tyler, then nothing around here parts gonna screw you."
"…Sound advice." Responded Justin who stood beside Lorna, who now had a white jacket over his red tank top. Bryan and Carlos sat beside Louis Mitchell, the boy who carried the baseball bat. Even his black leather jacket didn't keep Louis cool as the blonde boy kept on rubbing his hands together. David Woods held the crowbar on his left hand and helped Joan Kent to her feet with his right. They both had black hair. "Want me to hold that for you?" he asked her in a small voice. "Nah, I like this wrench." She responded with a cute smile. David wore a green fitted shirt beneath a denim jacket, while Joan simply wore a long sleeved pink shirt with a yellow flower at the bottom right end. Both of them were just 17 years of age.
"Take a look again JB." Ordered Michael. The 16 year old auburn haired boy nodded and went up the widest stretch again. He wore a plain fitted green shirt and bootleg jeans. "What-?" he looked up to find three men and a woman in the middle all standing side by side, threateningly staring at him.
"…They're here!" JB cried, alerting everyone in the triangle. The woman called Lilith, dressed in a brown trench coat over a blue tank top and a black skirt, raised an empty glass bottle that she held, and like a throwing knife, hurled it towards the boy. Before JB could move back, the glass bottle brutally crashed against his forehead, causing him to fall back in a cry of anguish. Everyone made a grab for their weapons, with the women standing a few feet behind the men.
"Oh shit, they're coming from all sides!!" screamed Tyler, noticing more dark figures come in from the narrow stretches. "We're outnumbered!" cried Louis. "Just hit someone!!!" ordered Michael. The figures began to move in.
Author's note: Well that certainly took long. I hope you liked the story. And thanks to Daniella for that touching review, and oops, it is beige I think, hehe. Well, please read and review, or flame, or like, whatever, I need reviews! Okay, so that's it for now, until next time we, um, meet!