Earlier That Day...

"There you go... in your head again." Said Marco as he walked into Jame's bedroom.

Their mother, Ms. Diamond, had been missing for seven months. By now the boys had gotten used to it. She tried to be there for Marco's illness. Went to a few of the chemo therapy session. She said it felt like having hair growing out of her finger nails. This is not what was bothering James this morning before school.

James pulled the corner of a blue and green deep toned sheet down underneath the matching corner of his mattress and spread out the wrinkles till it was nice and neat before letting out a long sigh when he bent over to gather the matching flat sheet.

Marco came up to him, snaked his own fingers into the bundle of fabric where his brother had the grip and stepped away walking to the opposite end of the mattress rising away from it as James did all the folding and tucking.

"What is it this time?" Marco asked as he pulled down the pale blue beanie on his smooth round head. His deep mystic sea green eyes so heavy and tired, "Are you envisioning someone alone, again. Trapped. Like last time? Or is it like some of the other times where you're imagining how you'd react if someone was hurting you... or whoever you wont tell me you see them hurting? You set up all these scenarios in your head of things that might never happen like you're practicing to be a good person. Worried to death that someone-"

When his brother trailed off James finally spoke but it was loud and aggressive, "What Marco! Someone what?"

Taken back Marco eased off a bit allowing James to pick up his own midnight ocean quilt to toss it so daintily over the full size bed in front of the wide open paneled window wall. James stood in the light of the sunlight through the pale turquoise billowing in the wind of an outside draft but Marco hid in the shadows as he said, "Someone who dreams up such awful scenarios might actually be awful."

James eased and took a breath. He blinked a few times before saying, "Are you hungry?"

"I'm a little high. Maybe some fruit would be nice." Marco was so frail his pale blue hoodie swallowed everything but his calves. His skin was whiter than snow and his voice was so bashful that he could already be a ghost.

That was a fear of James' and one he thought about as he made his way into the kitchen to slice up some water melon. What if there's no one actually talking to him? What if the watermelon is still in a bowl when he gets home? What if his grandfather is just pretending so as not to shatter James' already fragile psyche?

Still he sliced it up anyhow. They laughed about the time they stole their grandfather's moterbike and rode out to mount Cilor where they made that jump and actually landed it both of them having been certain it would end their life. Now, since then they've been so very decided that life was worth fighting for.

How Marco so often reminded James he was human. How he pulled him out of the clouds of dust where death did linger. Oh, that fateful day will come though. Then he could be sad. Now, he would choose to laugh because it's so much easier than the alternative. They both had a promise. A promise to fight. Nothing would take them down. Not ever. Not after the jump. If they landed it once, Hell knows they can land it again.

The door closes and Marco's sitting there alone and James began his walk to school that day. Logan would meet him at the end of the block and Marco would go back to the piano where he would drone on and own through the countless number of songs he's learned of woe that he only will play when he's home alone. The world will hear him today once more as the windows of the house are wide open this spring and the air accepts the melody though it was nature's own birds perched a top chest nut trees.

Now...

Jennifer A. The only Jennifer willing to associate with anyone below A-list in the eyes of those with a fair amount of money. Carlos had what they called new money. New money meaning his family recently came into the fortune and thus hold no merit in a community built on long time wealthy families.

Her thick black curls, her deep muave lips, and her smooth mocha skin gave her the image of a girl in with a group of gold proportion. Jennifer B and Jennifer C were those golden gifts from God and they were so very angry all the time because of their opposers. A rival like Alvin's Chipmunks and Brittany's Chippettes. Only Jennifer A never saw it that way. Jennifer C sees herself as the tip of the pyramid and she's so very obsessed with James.

Anyone with a brain at Alluvot high knows the real one to beat is Logan. He's so undiscovered as he insists on only doing harmonies in their shared showchoir but when he's forced to do solo week and he puts on that synth wave his voice is that of someone who studies how to please someone so very slowly. The percussion beneath his trills is like fingertips wrapped firmly around your hips and his sweater comes off during every performance just before he presses into the audience with the bridge and seeing him in his ripped shirt tank tops, knowing he came from a deep south kind of clan, and that he is so very sexy in his farm boy tan skin.

When she caught glimpse of someone coming down the side walk of the hill as she was stepping out of the Mercedes binz she got for her sweet sixteen four months ago she decided to go down the driveway and check the mail, maybe wait and see who it was. A white van billowing by her.

Pling is an app in which friends secretly share their location if there's a party no one needs to know about or something important is happening and you just had to be there. So when she saw Carlos, the boy who knows her darkest secret, and he shouted for her to pling him and that James was in the van being taken there was no hesitation.

"What!" She bellowed as she pulled out her phone, "Should I call the police?"

He yelled back at her, "One of them is POLICE!"

So she plinged him and he disappeared around the corner. Racing over to her new car she dialed his phone number which lit up at the top of her screen on the bright orange and red application home tab. He answered immediately and her car started up.

"I'm following you!" She said.

He didn't like the idea. They would surely get caught. Even still they both knew two was better than one. One of them was police? What does this mean? How would Carlos know? The men were masked. It's easy for a boy like Carlos. He gets cornered by one of those off duty cops at least twice a week. Racist man hiding behind a mask and having the know how to cover up his tracks. Except Carlos knows. You have enough conversations with someone you'll recognize their voice, "You like the way it hurts don't you." Said enough times will lodge it's self like a tumor on your frontal lobe cortex in that elaborate brain of yours.

As he peddled into the night he thought very deeply about saying it back.