Seven

"Dakota " Someone was actually shouting my name. I counted everyone I was with in my head. Five boys, my only friends. Who else would want my attention?

I turned around. John turned around too. And there she was. Heather, running after us with her friends standing not too far away. And she was waving her arm so I'd see her.

Months of neglect, and now you want my attention? Here I am.

"Yeah?" I asked. She motioned for me to go with her. I started walking and John followed. Heather eyed him, and nodded towards him silently saying she wanted him gone. I turned to him. "I'll be right back."

John just turned to Heather. "You have two minutes."

She scoffed at him and put her hands on her hips, "What are you, her body guard?"

"One minute and fifty seven seconds." John checked his watch. Heather rolled her eyes and grabbed my wrist.

"Listen, we heard about the accident," she told me, all sympathetic like. "Are you okay?"

Accident. That word was used too often. This was no accident. I wanted to tell her people were after John. People shot at John. It was no accident.

"I'm fine," I told her. She eyed the stitches in my arm. I ran my tongue along the cut on my lip.

"Those guys are bad news, Dakota," she told me. "Why are you hanging around them?"

I shrugged. There were a lot of reasons. None of which I could explain. So I shrugged. Plain and simple and it answered nothing, but it kept me from speaking.

"I bet it was no accident." Heather assumed, "He hurt you didn't he?"

"If John only wanted to hurt me," I said, "Why would he also have stitches in his hand and on his face?"

"Maybe he wanted to make it look convincing. As if there really was an accident." One of the cheerleaders shrugged. I laughed. "Sure, okay. Explain Garrett. John wouldn't do that to Garrett. It was a car accident. Happens every day."

"My brother's heard about John," Another girl spoke up, "I'll bet he was drunk, wasn't he?" I just laughed again.

"And what has your brother heard? That John enjoys messing people up." I shook my head, "You people have no idea."

People were so judgmental.

"Fifteen seconds," And John was right next to us. He came out of nowhere. Everyone just stared at him, silently. "If it's alright with you, we'll be leaving now."

They all nodded. John began to walk away and Heather grabbed my wrist. "If he ever hurts you, let us know. Kay?"

I laughed.

"What did she want?" John asked as we caught up with everyone else. I looked back at Heather. "The same thing I wanted the day I got here."

"And what's that?" John asked.

"Answers."

Before I meet John, I was always home on time. I always let my mom know where I'd be. I always called.

I can't afford to keep calling. We made runs all around the city just meeting up with people and every person knew John as a different person. To kids at our school, John was just John'O. The bad guy.

To kids who went to other schools, usually public schools like ours, John was Tyler. And when John was Tyler, we usually had something serious on our hands. Like a kid with a gun ready to paint every building in this city with someone else's brains.

Today John was Tyler and today I feared for my life. I sat in the back seat between Alex and Doug shaking. Alex laughed. "You gonna be okay?"

Is this something you just get used to? Is this something you stop thinking about?

"It gets easier," Doug told me as if he read my mind. His voice was low and monotone like always. I felt like he hated me. We started driving and everything passed around us in a blur.

Always a blur.

We pulled into a back ally and we parked the car. I actually had to get out of the car this time. Hyperventilation commence. Alex laughed at me and slung an arm around my shoulder, "Calm down, will ya?"

"How do you just laugh about this?" I asked him. He smiled, "I live for this stuff. It's exciting in a life threatening kind of way, ya know?"

"Oh, yes. I live for risking death." I said, sarcasm dripping from every word. Alex just laughed. We walked behind a tall building, and there he was. This kid, maybe seventeen years old was backed up against the building, sweat dripping down his face, his eyes squeezed shut. Inches from his face was the end of a gun. And holding that gun was a kid maybe eighteen years old. His jaw was clenched and his finger was on the trigger. When he saw John, he jumped.

"You take so much as a step closer and I was blow his fucking brains out," Gunboy, said. The other kid tensed up and tears fell down his cheek. John reached into his pocket. "You don't drop that gun and I'll do the same."

And out of John's pocket came that handheld killer. John's gun reflected the other kid's gun. The fear in my eyes reflected the fear of everyone else's fear. Gunboy moved his gun from the other kid's face.

"Drop it," John said slowly. He put his finger on the trigger and Gunboy swallowed hard. John moved closer and pinned Gunboy against the wall. His fingers uncurled and the gun dropped to the concrete. John kicked it aside and moved away. Gunboy tried to run and John grabbed him by the sleeve, "Do it again and we'll find you. Got it."

Gunboy just swallowed hard. "Got it?" John screamed. He nodded nervously and John shoved him, sending him running in the opposite direction. The other kid was sitting on the concrete ground, trying to catch his breath and collect himself before anyone noticed he was crying. John grabbed the cloth of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. "You okay?"

The kid nodded and wiped his face. John just stood next to him frowning. "You got a name?"

He nodded. John looked at him, "Well?"

"James," the kid stuttered. John nodded, "You live around here?"

James nodded again.

"Want a ride home?"

James shook his head.

"Yes you do," John said, grabbing his wrist, "You don't want to be back out on these streets by yourself again, do you? Come with us."

James followed us back to the car. I walked with him. Seeing him that shaky made me nervous. I asked him calmly if he was alright and if there was anyone he wanted us to call. He just said no, take me home. I asked if he was hurt. No, take me home. We drove him to his house and John made sure one more time he was okay. He just nodded. John handed him a slip of paper and said if anyone messes with you, let us know. James nodded and ran inside.

We drove home in silence after that.