The boardwalk, I decided after only being there for a few moments, was going to be somewhere I spent a lot of time. It was beautiful and strange in a weird sort of way, and I could practically feel a heartbeat from how alive it seemed. So many different types of people were bumbling around, and it put a silly, little grin on my face. I almost forgot about my mother back at home.

The sun was setting over the horizon, setting everyone in a pink glow, and people were slowly retreating from the beach's water as it turned cooler. I pulled my leather jacket closer to myself as the wind whipped past me. Still, I was excited to be here.

I made my way down the shops, looking at the signs to see if anything piqued my interest. Nothing really did besides small comic book shop and a clothing store. I stepped into the latter.

It was warm inside, a lot warmer than it was out there, and the shop was filled with all sorts of different styles and sizes. It ranged from leather jackets and spiked boots to frilly t-shirts to tie-dyed hippie clothes. It was nice to see such a variety to look through. Of course, I first walked through the punk section, happy to see items of clothing I had wanted for a while. Like leather pants that were crisscrossed down the side and new oversized t-shirts that I could cut up or wear as is.

Even being inside the small store, I could see a variety of people come and go. It was a bittersweet kind of feeling, watching. So many lives. So many that I'll only see for this split second. So many people I could make friends and bad life decisions with. And so many people that could destroy my life with a snap if I even associated with them. It was bittersweet, yes it was, and very strange.

I had just stepped out of the store, when I felt somebody ram into me, knocking me to the floor from the blow. I let out a groan at the feeling of someone's weight on me and coughed. The boy who hit me quickly lifted himself a bit so he was on his knees above me.

"Oh my god, are you okay? I wasn't paying attention to where I was going!"

I groaned again and turned to look at him, giving him a weak smile. "I'm good, dude. Just caught off guard."

The boy gave me a bright grin and stood up, holding out a hand. I paused and looked at him for a moment, taking in his mesh shirt, mix between a tux and leather jacket, and dirty, white pants. I couldn't deny that he was a sight for sore eyes.

I gratefully took his hand and dusted off my pants after I was standing correctly. "Where were you going running so fast, anyway?" I reached down and grabbed my bag of new clothes.

He scratched the back of his neck as his grin turned into a sheepish smile. "My buddy Marko and I were racing to our bikes, but I guess he's won now."

"You guys have bikes?"

He nodded enthusiastically, almost reminding me of a puppy with all his happiness. "Yeah! We're like, uh," he dropped his voice deep for the next part, "a really scary biker gang."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? How could someone as carefree as you be in a biker gang? You look harmless."

He gave a chuckle, but this one seemed a bit darker. "Well, looks can be deceiving, doll."

I paused for a second before shaking my head. "Well, I think it'd be neat to be friends with a 'scary biker gang' and you've called it. I just moved here today, and I need some friends, and you look around my age." I paused again, my cheeks flushing red as I remember all the times I had gotten shot down through my years of living. "I mean, that is if you would even want me as your friend."

The boy let out a loud giggle, a surprising sound coming from someone as big as him, effectively cutting me off. "I'd love to be your friend!"

I let a grin as wide as his overcome my face as well, and I nodded quickly. "Okay, cool! What's your name, anyway? I haven't gotten it yet."

The boy wrapped his arm around my shoulders and began leading me away from the shop as we spoke. "My name's Paul. Do you have a name as well, or can I just call you mine?"

I giggled a girlish giggle that I was pretty embarrassed of and bit my lip. A sweet talker. I never lasted long around those. Then again, I was never sweet-talked back at my old home. No, I was too much of a freak for that. "My name's Ivarella, but my mom calls me Ivy."

"Your mom? Usually, people say their friends call them a nickname."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Never really had friends. Being the weird girl in school is, well, weird."

"I don't think you're weird."

"You've only known me for like two minutes!"

"I know, but I can already tell. Actually, no, you're a bit weird because you decided to be friends with me." He shook both of us a bit, and I rolled my eyes.

"Then, we can be weirdos together."

He hummed, and I looked around the boardwalk with a small smile. People were staring, I noticed. It felt like everyone's eyes were on us. I wonder why. Maybe his 'biker gang' was actually very bad. What's the worst that could happen? I get killed? I'm sure no one would miss me. I mean, how my mother had been acting recently. How the whole town had turned their back on me. Nobody cared for me.

I felt my fingers twitch in a way that was barely noticeable. I wanted to grab one of my matches. I didn't want to light it. I just wanted to hold one for a moment. I reached my hands into the pockets of my jacket, trying to make it look like I was just cold, but when I couldn't get a match out of the box, I let out a loud sigh and pulled my hands back out.

I could feel Paul's eyes on me. "You okay there?"

I looked up at him and nodded. "I'm all good. Where are we going, anyway?"

Paul didn't look convinced, but he ignored it. "I'm going to introduce you to my friends. Maybe you can join the gang. Be a biker with us."

"Wouldn't I need a bike for that?"

"We'll figure that out when the time comes." He said it in a high-pitched voice.

I rolled my eyes again and picked up my hand so I could thump his that rested on my shoulder. "You're so strange!"

"Y'know what, doll. I don't think I can take any more of this." He had a stupid little smile on his face as he said it.

"Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"

"This," he said simply before jumping in front of me and picking me up so I was on his back, taking my bag of new clothes into his own hand.

I let out a loud squeal and wrapped my arms around his neck, trying not to freak out. "Paul! Let me down," I screeched as he sprinted forward. "You're going to run into somebody else and kill me!"

"I wouldn't hurt you, doll!"

"I find that incredibly hard to believe," I yelled out, holding him tighter. I was surprised he could still breathe with how hard I was holding onto him. "Paul!" And right after I yelled his name again, he came to a sudden stop, making me let out another scream as I thought I was going to fall, but Paul had grabbed onto the backs of my thighs, so I was okay.

I lifted my head slowly and met the stares of three other boys, all around the same height, and all dressed in a strange sort of fashion that matched the group. "Paul," I bent my head down a bit, still watching them, "is this the biker gang you're part of."

Paul turned his head a bit, whispering back to me. "Yeah, it is."

"Paul, they look a lot scarier than you do."

Paul let out a loud laugh and lifted one hand to pat my hand before letting me down from his back so I was standing in front of them, and suddenly, I felt very bare in my simple tank top, leather jacket, and short shorts as all three of them scanned up and down my body. I looked down as well - trying to make sure I looked even a decent bit okay - before I turned to Paul with a frown.

"Paul, you asshole, you ripped my fishnets!"