Disclaimer: I have no delusions about owning or holding rights over Newsies; you shouldn't either. Don't sue. Believe me, I have nothing you would want.
Also, any pop culture references...guess what? Don't own those either. Actually...anything that you may have heard of and/or recognized in this story is owned by someone who isn't me.

Warning:Updates may (and probably will be) slow.
Also, I haven't written in quite awhile. Hopefully i'll get back into the full swing of things. Until then, I'm sorry if this chapter isn't up to my usual standards.
This contains SLASH, in other words same sex couples. If this doesn't appeal to you, you shouldn't be here. It also contains drug use, violence, sexual situations, and may contain a(n OC) death. This story is marked for mature readers only, please treat it as such.

Pairings: Will be switching around quite a bit. If you have any preferences please let me know. They probably won't end up together unless I already planned for it to happen, but I can put in a couple flings for you if you ask nice enough

Beta'ed By: Unfortunately, after 2 years of absence, I've lost contact with my beta's. So, unfortunately, this one was edited by me. Sorry if it's not up to standards.

Summary of Chapter 19 (because at this point I'm sure you've forgotten):

-Sarah and David are actually getting along ... mush to the surprise of their parents
-Stealth warns Spot that something bad is going to happen, and it involves Racetrack
-Itey unknowingly gives Mush his first kiss.
-Sarah threatens Jack to lighten up on her brother.
-Bumlets gets a job with Swifty's uncle.
-Skittery joins the Brooklyn gang.
-Itey tells David that Sean's a gang leader.

And now, without further ado, I present chapter 20!

Getting Back Together Again
XX: Everyone's Pissed

Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs were just about ready to go. Unfortunately, they were missing two very important things: their babysitters for the evening.

"Where do you think they are?" the wife asked, peaking out of the window worriedly.

"I don't know, but I can tell you this," the husband replied sternly as he adjusted his tie, "if one of them isn't here soon neither of them are leaving the house until college."

"I hope they're okay."

"Sarah I can understand, but David …" He shook his head. "He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago, regardless of if we were leaving or not. Did he forget he was still being punished? What are we doing wrong here? I thought David was supposed to be the good one."

"Henry!" his wife exclaimed, her eyes going wide, "don't talk like that. All our children are unique, and shouldn't be ranked or compared to one another."

Henry nodded. "Of course. You're absolutely right. I'm just frustrated. If we're late …"

"I'm sure there's a good explanation. They're both good kids."

"There's Sarah!" Mr. Jacobs exclaimed as his daughter's car pulled up into the driveway. "She better have a good explanation for this."

They watched as Sarah got out of the driver's seat. And they shared a surprised glance as David got of the passenger's side. They were still getting along? Those two hadn't been able to be in the same room with each other since middle school.

"Sorry we're late," Sarah apologized as she ran through the front door.

"Traffic was awful," David explained as he came in after her.

"It took us ten minutes just to get a mile," Sarah complained. "Talk about road rage."

"Well," Sarah's mom began, "I'm just glad you both are okay."

"Yes, yes," their dad agreed hurriedly. "And now we really must be going." He tugged his wife's arm towards the door. "Take good care of your brother. Make us proud, et cetera and so on."

Sarah and David both laughed after the door closed.

"I think that actually went better than when we aren't late for babysitting," Sarah said. "Maybe we should be late more often."

David put a hand on his chest. "I don't think my heart could handle it. I was sure dad would ground me until college. I can't believe he didn't even say anything about me still being under house arrest."

Sarah shrugged. "I guess wherever they're going is super important. Just be grateful you lucked out." She punched her brother gently on the arm. "Hope my driving didn't panic you too much."

"Panic me?!" David asked, his eyes widened. "I think that's something else my heart wouldn't be able to handle again. Who exactly was it that taught you how to drive?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "How have your balls not dropped yet? I did what I had to. If we were any later who knows what would have happened. I got us here in one piece, so," she shrugged, "no harm, no foul, right?"

"But what if we had crashed? We both could have ended up dead."

"But we didn't, Dad," Sarah said.

"I understand that we didn't, Sarah, but we could have! And that should be enough to make you slow down."

Sarah rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I had a handle on it, okay? If you don't want to ride with me then don't. I was just offering to be nice, you ungrateful brat."

"'Ungrateful brat?'" David asked. "No, not at all." He started pacing around. "In fact, let me tell you a few of the things I'm thankful for. I'm thankful I lived through that whole experience with you. I'm thankful I have my license so I never have to go through it again. And I'm thankful we have cops roaming the streets that'll lock you in jail when they see you endangering that many lives."

"You're such an irritating shithead," Sarah complained. "God, no wonder I haven't put up with you in so long. I forgot how fucking annoying you were."

"Well that's fine!" David shouted. "Because you don't have to deal with me! In fact, I would very much appreciate it if you didn't! You just ruin everything you touch anyway. You're too stupid to actually do anything productive. You just make everything worse! Did you really think talking sense into Jack would help? You just turned him into a bigger pain."

Sarah rolled her eyes again. "That was way too much talking to pay attention to," she replied calmly. "I hate listening to your voice in general, why would I ever want to listen to it for that long? Think about someone else besides yourself for a change."

David narrowed his eyes. How did he forget how much he hated his sister?

Before he could think of a good insult to throw her way the doorbell rang.

"Bumlets," Sarah stated before trudging up the stairs. "I'll just leave you to your friend that's only here because I asked."

David tried to squash his anger before opening the door. Sure enough, there was Bumlets on the other side of it. But, a lot less expectantly was Itey, who was standing a little behind him.

Bumlets shrugged apologetically. "I ran into him on my way here. Is it okay that I brought him?"

The impulse answer was, of course, no, but Sarah's words still rang in his ears. He would show her whose balls had dropped. Well, not literally, of course, but figuratively speaking … right, well, anyway … "Yea. He's just going to have to leave before my parents get back."

"Ah, Davey, you know we love you!" Itey exclaimed with a smile before walking in.

"Shoes off!" David demanded as he saw Itey's muddy shoe print on the wooden floor.

"Course, David," Bumlets replied, stepping inside and slipping his shoes off. "You've gotta relax, ok? You seem a little tense."

David nodded. "It's Sarah's fault. We got into a small shouting match before you got here about her terrible driving."

Itey laughed, kneeling down to untie a shoe. "That's not surprising. She is a woman, after all. It only stands to reason that she'd be a terrible driver. Where is that little tyke anyway?"

David frowned. "That's really sexist, Itey. You better not ever say anything like that around my mom. Sarah stomped off upstairs."

"Of course I was kidding, Davey. Bum's right; you are too wound up. How 'bout you and he watch some television and unstress yourselves. I gotta go to the crapper," Itey replied, taking off for the upstairs.

"There's a bathroom down here," David told him, scrunching his eyebrows together.

Itey waved as he continued up. "Thanks for the offer, but the upstairs bathroom is fine. Don't wait up. I gotta unload a big one."

"Ew," was all David replied with.

Spot got to his room and opened his door. His eyes immediately found Jack taking a nap on his rotting couch. "Didn't somebody tell you that you wouldn't be staying here any longer?"

Jack leapt up. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped. "What the fuck do you mean I can't stay here? You said I could, you sack of shit! This is the only place I got! Where the hell else am I supposed to go?"

Spot rolled his eyes. "In the basement, you retard. Your new roommate's already waiting for you. Now get your shit and get the hell out. I'm getting depressingly tired of looking at you."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he roughly grabbed his book bag full of clothes. "You're a fucking bastard. You knew exactly how that fucking sounded. Was it really fucking necessary for you to scare me like that?"

Spot sighed. "No, I supposed not," he admitted. "It did make it a lot funnier though."

Jack made sure to slam the door on his way out.

"That fucking bastard," he continued to mumble to himself as he traveled down the steps. "Who the fuck does he think he is? I swear I'm going to dropkick him in his little midget head."

"Don't tell me Spot managed to piss of another one of his whores," Hunter said as he walked up to Jack on the stairs. "So what happened, Precious? Was there not enough foreplay for you?"

Jack gritted his teeth. He was never in the mood for this shit, but now was an especially bad fucking time. "Now's not the time, you fucking retard. Move the fuck outta my way before I do it for you."

Hunter's smirk didn't look intimidated. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to him, quite content to block the rest of the stairs from Jack. "Or perhaps … there was no foreplay at all? Did he just ram it in and have his way with you?"

Jack shoved Hunter backwards, causing him to tumble back and slide down half a flight of stairs on his back. "I warned you, you fucking cock-sucking bastard!" he shouted. He jumped from his position in the middle of the stairs to land on top of Hunter at the landing. He started punching; everywhere and anywhere.

"What the fuck!" Hunter shrieked. "Get the fuck off me, you deranged freak! You fucking homo!" He held his arms up to protect his face, but the punches kept landing.

Suddenly Jack was jerked up by his shirt. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Slingshot asked, still holding onto Jack by the shirt. "Hunter is your superior! You have absolutely no reason to be attacking him like that! No matter what happens or what he did!" He looked up. "And what exactly were you doing? Were you just going to watch? What do you think of all of this?"

Jack followed Slingshot's gaze to see Spot standing at the top of the stairs.

Hunter continued to lie on the ground, hiding his face in his hands and trying to breathe again.

Spot smirked and then shrugged. "I think it was mildly impressive. I think it was well-deserved. And I think that he practically got on his knees and asked for it." He frowned and narrowed his eyes. "I also think they both need to grow the fuck up, because they have a lot more important things to be worrying about than each other."

Jack dropped his eyes from Spot's gaze. Somehow that comment made him feel bad for what he had done. It was the same look David used to give him from an eternity ago.

Spot turned his back to them. "And I also think we, too, have more important things to deal with than these two retards." He started walking back up the stairs.

Slingshot finally released Jack's shirt. He shook his head while looking at Jack. "You should be glad Spot's in a good mood." He glared at the ground, towards Hunter. "Both of you." After that he hurried after Spot.

Jack sighed, easing the feelings of guilt coming out of him. Then he crotched down beside Hunter's ear. "Don't fucking ask for shit, and I won't fucking give it," he whispered.

Hunter groaned.

Jack gave a Spot-like smirk before stepping over Hunter and continuing down the stairs. He wondered how far down the basement was.

Specs bit into a burger. "Why even try?" he asked around a mouthful of food. "He's a douchebag doofus anyway. You need someone better than that. You need, like, I don't know … How do I put this without sounding gay?" he asked as he chewed. "What you need is a real man!" he suddenly exclaimed excitedly, spitting some food in Dutchy's direction.

Dutchy flicked away some of Specs's food that had flown to his cheek. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that food stays in your mouth?" What had he been thinking? Of course it was a stupid plan to date Bumlets. Especially once they added in the sex. And Specs wasn't even thinking about being jealous because why would he? He was straight. What was the point? He was such a dimwit. Of course his plan wouldn't work. It was his, after all.

"Dutch! Come on, man. You aren't getting the point," Specs replied, waving his hands around. "You're missing everything I'm saying cause you're so wrapped up in depression. Bumlets is a worthless little shit, okay? You need someone better than that."

Dutchy frowned. "Would you stop? He's still my friend, you know. You calling him a piece of shit isn't helping anything."

"Are you serious? He was talking behind your back. Why don't you fucking stand up for yourself? I'm trying to help you out here."

"Well, I appreciate that. But I would appreciate it a lot more if you could do that without talking trash about one of my friends."

"But that's what I'm good at," Specs admitted. "This fucker- I mean, this guy really hurt you. And I wanna help you out. But I don't know how else to do it."

Dutchy's eyes lit up. "You really want to help?" Okay, so maybe his last plan didn't work. That was fine, because this one wasn't going to fail. Of course Specs wasn't going to get jealous of him if he had never thought of them being in a relationship together before. Sometimes he couldn't handle how brilliant he was.

"Of course I do," Specs insisted, unknowingly walking into a trap. "I wanna make that asshole regret what he did to you."

"That's perfect," Dutchy replied. "Because I just came up with the perfect plan. One that's sure to mess Bumlets up, and make sure that he regrets ever dumping me!"

"Awesome!" Specs exclaimed. "Count me in! Let's make him cry!"

Dutchy frowned for a second. "Well … let's try and kind of lead away from the crying aspect." He perked up again. "But I'm feeling really good about this one. And I admire your devotion."

"Excellent! Excellent," Specs said excitedly. "So what's this wonderful plan of yours? I'm ready for it."

Dutchy smirked. "We've gotta make him jealous." This was going to be fucking perfect. Maybe he didn't have the best plans all the time, but he sure did come up with some flawless ones sometimes.

"What'd you want?" Spot asked as soon as he had closed the door to his room.

"What? I can't stop by just to talk sometimes? I thought we could talk about our feelings," Slingshot answered. "We could snuggle and tell each other how much we love the other one and why."

Spot rolled his eyes. "I'd rather just have my balls ripped off and then force-fed to me. What'd you actually come by to talk about?"

Slingshot crossed his arms. "I wish you could relax more, Boss. Bad news is so hard to break."

Spot narrowed his eyes. "Bad news?" He advanced on his second-in-command. "What kind of bad news?" he asked in a deadly quiet voice.

Slingshot put his arms in between them. He stumbled back until he ran into the wall. "Now see? This is what I'm talking about. How am I ever supposed to tell you when you already look like you're going to kill me?"

Spot took a deep sigh and stepped back a few steps. He tried to calm himself down, but bad news really pissed him off. And having to wait for it really fucking pissed him off. "Now," he demanded quietly.

"Well, sir, it seems the Bronx may be a bit testier than we had originally thought," Slingshot finally got out.

"How much madder?" The Bronx had never caused them much trouble before. More than often they were on the same team, and when they weren't it was because the Bronx were staying out of things.

Sliongshot closed his eyes tight and sighed. "This is very hard for me to do, sir."

Spot clenched his teeth. It was taking all he had not to rip Slingshot to shreds, or strangle him, or punch a wall, or something. He didn't have a kind temper. It was really impatient. The one thing he liked about Slingshot was that, more often than not, he got to the fucking point. He didn't ramble on like all the other idiots, like he was doing right now.

"The Bronx has barred us from their territory," Slingshot finally forced out. He immediately flinched, waiting for a punch that never came.

"You're fucking pathetic," Spot complained. "Fucking stand up and be a man. Jesus Christ. Those punks are actually ballsy enough to ban us from their grounds?"

Slingshot stood up straight. He tried his best to look Spot in the eye like a man, but his eyes forced him to look at the ground instead. "Yes, sir. It seems as if they've instituted a no-one-in-no-one-out policy."

Spot narrowed his eyes. "Prisoners? Causalities?"

Slingshot shook his head. "None and none, sir. They just sent us out a warning. They haven't taken any action against us yet."

Spot rubbed his forehead. He was starting to get a headache. "Fine. Return the sentiment. Issue the same warning. Give 'em a week before we start enforcing it. And let the men know to stop making trips there. In the meantime, it's your job to figure out why."

Sling nodded his head. "Of course I will, sir. I'll get right on it."

"Good. Now get out of here. I need a god damn nap."

Blink leaned against his best friend's bed. "You know I love you, right Mush? But things just aren't the same without Racetrack .When do you think his mom will finally like us again?"

Mush shrugged from beside Blink. "You wanna go over to his house and talk to her? Maybe if we tell her we aren't gambling with him she'll let us see him."

Blink sighed. "Probably not, but we could try. We might at least to be able to score some hours in the house with him. … For today anyway. Maybe. I hope."

Mush put a hand on Blink's shoulder. "Positive thinking," he said before getting up. "It doesn't count as a try unless you go into it thinking that it'll work."

Blink nodded. "You're right. I was just getting down for a minute. Come on, let's go see Race," he said as he got up as well. He began following Mush to the door. He didn't understand why people thought Mush was naive. He had always thought that he was wise.

"Let's try and get something to eat with him," Mush suggested, grabbing his keys. "I'm getting hungry."

Blink nodded again. "Where were you thinking? Fast food? I could go for a burger. Wendy's maybe?" He followed Mush outside and to the car.

Mush shrugged as he opened up his car door and sat down. "I don't know. I wouldn't mind Wendy's, but I was hoping for something more …"

Blink plopped down in the passenger seat with a smile on his face. "Cheaper? Faster? Fancier? More better?"

Mush raised an eyebrow at him before turning the key in the ignition. "Slower is actually what I was thinking," he said.

Blink laughed as they backed out of the driveway. "Sorry. So what were you thinking?" he asked as he put on his seatbelt. "Applebee's? Olive Garden? O'Charlie's? Longhorn? Red Lobster? The Outback?"

Mush shook his head and laughed. "Too fancy. We aren't going on a three-way date, you know."

"Fricker's? Bullwinkle's? Steak'n'Shake? Chipotle? Umm … Wafflehouse?"

"I'd kind of like some pizza I think. Would that be okay?"

Blink nodded as he turned onto Racetrack's street. "Pizza, huh? Let's see … Domino's? Donato's? Pizza Hut? Jet's? Marco's? American Pizza? La Rosa's? Little Caesar's?"

"That can be up to you two," Mush offered. "I just want some pizza. I don't care where it comes from."

"We'll let Race decide then," Blink replied, "Cause I don't really care either. I just wanna see Racetrack."

Mush nodded as they pulled up Racetrack's driveway. "I know what you mean. It seems like it's been ages, hasn't it?"

"Way too long is what it feels like," Blink replied as he unfastened his seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

Mush nodded again and started to follow Blink to the door. "I hope he's doing okay."

"Probably going stir crazy. You know how Race hates staying in one place for too long," Blink said. He looked behind him at Mush. "Hey! Why am I the one going first? That's not fair! His mom likes you better. You go first."

"But I don't wanna go first," Mush replied. "You're the one who volunteered."

Blink's eye widened. "I did not! I would never!"

They stopped when they got to the porch, both not wanting to go any farther.

"Why not? Just go first."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm afraid of her!"

"Me too."

"Damn it," Blink swore. They should have planned this out better. Only a door and a woman stood in the way of seeing their best friend. So close, yet so far away. "Okay, what if I knock, and you talk to her?"

"What if I knock and you talk to her?"

Blink sighed. "Well, we've gotta think of something. We can't have come all this way for nothing"

Suddenly the front door opened without the encouragement of a knock. A tall, muscular man stepped out with a frown on his face. "What are you boys doing here?" he asked with a gruff voice.

Blink and Mush both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hello, Mr. Higgins!" Mush greeted with a smile.

"Is Racetrack home?" Blink asked his eyes bright as he bounced slightly on the balls of his feet.

Mush's smile dropped. "Is his mom home?" he asked quietly.

Mr. Higgins let go of a low laugh as he stepped away from the door. "Yes and no," he replied. "Just leave in an hour, and make sure not to ever tell her I let you in."

Blink and Mush burst out in smiles, first looking at each other, then looking at Racetrack's wonderful dad. "You're the best, Mr. Higgins!" they both said as they ran inside.

Skitts lied on his back at the top of one of the many bunk beds covering the walls of the basement. He stared up at the rafters. The bed did look a lot better with sheets. And it was a lot softer than he had anticipated.

"This doesn't seem so bad," Skitts told himself, throwing his hands behind his head and crossing his legs. "No yelling, no screaming, no stupid bitch of a sister. A guy could get used to this."

"What the fuck is this shit?" Jack asked as he came down the stairs. "What the hell are you doing here? And what the fuck is Sean … Spot … Whatever-the-Fuck-His-Name-Is thinking putting me in a fucking dungeon?"

Skittery popped up in his bed and sat cross-legged. "What am I doing?" he repeated, pointing at himself. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, now pointing towards Jack. "This is my room, Jackass. Get the hell out."

"Fuck no," Jack answered. "I'm not getting kicked out of two places in one day. I just want to know why the fuck you're my new roommate. You have a house."

"None of your god damn business," Skittery replied. "You refuse to leave? Fine. But don't fucking talk to me. You're a worthless piece of trash, and I don't want anything to do with you. I don't want to act chummy. I don't want you knowing my business. And the less I see and hear of you the better, ok?"

"Jesus Christ, pent up anger?" Jack said, rolling his eyes. "Hey, don't worry. I'm not trying to make any friends. Especially not with you, alright? Why the fuck would I want a worthless druggie as a friend?"

Skittery jumped off his bed. "What the FUCK Jack? I fucking saved your ass from sleeping outside in the cold, from sleeping out in the fucking rain. I let you sleep in my house. I let you eat my food. I took care of your worthless ass. How the fuck do you think you can talk to me like that?"

"Your parent's food! Your parent's house!" Jack corrected angrily. "You didn't give me shit. You don't have shit to give."

"You fucking piece of shit," Skittery growled. "No wonder your parents don't want you. You're a fucking ungrateful, spoiled brat." He slowly walked up to Jack. "You're a god damn piece of scum, Jack, and now is not the day to piss me off."

Jack shoved him away. "If you don't want a fight you should go back to your bunk like a good little bitch, because I would never be afraid of someone like you."

Skittery clenched his fists. He did not appreciate being called a bitch. It'd been ages since his last real fight, and Jack definitely looked bigger than him. At this point though … damn it, he just didn't give a shit. "That was a warning, Jack. I was trying not to pummel your face in."

Jack laughed with his hands on his hips. "As if a skinny midget like you could ever take me down."

Skittery bolted for Jack with his head bent down. He grabbed him by the waist and forced him down. Then he punched. And he punched again. "I am so fucking tired of listening to your obnoxious voice!" he screamed. He kept punching. "No one fucking cares about you, Jack! Everyone is fucking sick of you! You're a fucking piece of trash. Fucking act like it!"

Meanwhile, Jack was on his back, trying to get the air back into his lungs. Even in a daze he was in disbelief. How could he have let this asshole take him down? He was a football player, god damn it! It was his job not to get tackled.

As soon as Jack had regained his breath he flipped them, so it was Skittery who was on his back. He huffed for a second as he held Skittery's arms down. "Listen, you little bitch," he demanded through clenched teeth. "You can't win against me, ok? I'm stronger, faster, and better than you will ever be. So I'm telling you one last time: pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get back on your bunk like a good little bitch."

Skittery immediately started squirming and thrashing around. "You're a mother-fucking cunt! Ass-face! Fucking donkey-fucking cumdumpster! Fucking fag! You fucking gutter-trash-rot! Let me the fuck up!"

Jack answered by head butting him.

"Ugh," Skittery grunted, flinching up.

"There's more where that came from," Jack answered before violently cringing. He rolled off and began hugging his stomach. "You kneed me in the balls, you little shit," he accused with a winded breath.

Skittery leapt up, swaying a bit. That head butt had made him dizzy. "Good," he replied with a smile on his face. "Cause there's more where that came from, bitch!" He triumphantly turned around to see someone watching from the stairs. "Another new roommate?"

They didn't answer.

Skittery cocked his head to the side as Jack continued to roll on the ground.

The person looked around before finally answering. "Sorry," he said quietly, "I thought the basement was empty."

"Moved in today," Skittery happily explained.

The boy kept silent.

Skittery furrowed his eyebrows. This was a very weird kid. He refused to speak because he was … scared? But he looked more than comfortable with just standing there. "I'm getting hungry," Skittery said, heading for the stairs. He grabbed the quiet boy's arm. "Come on. You can show me where all the food's at in this piece of shit building."

"Are you coming?" Racetrack asked. "You promised you would."

Everything was dark. "Promised I would what?" Spot asked back.

"Come."

"Come where?"

Racetrack laughed. "I don't know, Silly. Where do you wanna come? We agreed that we could both come wherever we wanted."

"'Come wherever we wanted'?" Spot asked. He was getting confused. He could go wherever he wanted? Where did he want to go? Brooklyn? He realized it was so dark because his eyes were closed. He quickly opened them. … And got nailed in the face with something wet. He sputtered when some of it went into his mouth.

Racetrack laughed again. "I told you I wanted to cum on your face. You should have kept your eyes closed.

Spot's eyes widened, and he sputtered some more. Cum?! That was cum on his face?! He tried to wipe some of it off, but he only ended up smearing it. He stopped as his head was jerked up by the hair.

"I told you to eat it," Racetrack growled at him while holding a fistful of Spot's hair. "You fucking promised you would, you little slut."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Spot asked, scrunching his nose when he tasted more cum on his lips.

Racetrack pulled his hair harder. "I said fucking eat it, you stupid slut! What? You don't have ears now? Once you've been a good boy and licked it all up I'll let you cum wherever you'd like.

"Good," Spot replied, trying to get back into control, "because I wanna come in that sweet ass of yours."

Racetrack laughed and pushed Spot. And suddenly, somehow, Spot was on all fours. "You should probably get this straight right now," he said, jamming one finger into Spot's ass. "The only person going into anyone's tight ass is me going into yours. And don't even try to deny it. You're excitement is very visible." He wiggled around his finger before withdrawing it.

Spot looked down to see between his legs and, sure enough, his excitement was visible. And, not only that, in fact, but he also looked more 'excited' than he had ever remembered looking.

Racetrack laughed one more time. "You better hurry up and decide, you filthy whore. If you don't you're just going to end up cumming all over yourself. And if that happens you better fucking eat that too."

Spot woke up with a start and a sticky mess between his legs. His face immediately warmed up. When was the last time he had had a fucking wet dream? Fucking twelve?

"Oh, Jesus," Spot swore. "What the fuck is wrong with me lately? Racetrack? Fucking Racetrack? Why does that punkass keep bothering me?"

He got up from bed and started to head towards the shower. First thing first was to get cleaned up. There was no way in hell he was going to let anyone see what a mess he had made of himself.

What he had to figure out was why. Why was Racetrack having this effect on him? He wasn't a bad-looking kid, but Spot had seen better. He wasn't wonderfully athletic. He wasn't terrifically smart. He wasn't the first kid to try to stand up to him.

Spot turned on the shower and started peeling off sticky clothes. Racetrack was noisy, opinionated, temperamental, and impatient. Most of the time he did a pretty good job annoying Spot. He was whiney, cowardly, and a goody-two-shoes.

Spot hopped in the shower and immediately grabbed the soap.

Definitely not his type.

And being dominated had never been Spot's thing. He was the one who was supposed to be calling his fuck buddy a slut and a whore, and cumming all over his face, and sticking his fingers into his asshole. If he were to have sex with Racetrack, then he would be the one calling the shots. He was no one's bitch.

Spot scrubbed at his stomach. This job was harder than he had remembered. He'd forgotten how much of a bitch it was to wash cum off.

Seriously, what was going on with him lately? Too much stress? Was Manhattan too much for him? Was he more worried about his secret getting out than he had thought? Maybe he just needed a vacation. Or a really good fuck.

Once all the cum was down the drain he decided to start washing his hair.

Maybe he was starting to get bored with Slingshot, and his subconscious was just bringing it to his attention in a really fucked up way. What other explanation could there be?

He put his head under the water and started rinsing off the shampoo.

He knew another option. He just didn't want to explore it. He didn't have time for that shit. He was a busy guy, and he'd already spent enough time thinking about him and his stupid …

… Crush ….

… Thing he had with him. God damn it! He had spent this long ignoring his hormones! He had the willpower to last just another two and a half more years. Then this stupid teenage faze would be over and he could get back to business.

He turned off the faucet and shook some of the water out of his hair.

He couldn't handle all this annoying shit! He had to do something about it right now. He couldn't wake up like this for two more years. He had to get Racetrack out of his head. How though, was the question. Maybe if he just spent some time away from him. That definitely couldn't hurt, anyway.

Spot shook his head. Maybe all this crush bullshit was too much for him. He wasn't even coming up with a good fucking plan. But, god damn it, he would not be fucked over.

David peered at his hand of cards. He looked to his right at Bumlets, and then looked to his left at his little brother. He looked at his hand again, then at his opponents. His eyes shot to the mess of cards in between all of them. "Do you have … any twos?" he asked, looking at Les.

Les eyes slowly went wide as he pointed at himself. "Me?"

David nodded. "Yep, you, Short-Stuff. Now come on, let's see those two's."

His little brother lit up into a smile. "Nope. Go Fish!"

Bumlets laughed as David picked one of the many cards making up the river. "He got you that time."

David crouched down and looked at his little brother. He narrowed his eyes. "Yes, he certainly did," he mumbled. "But he won't be doing it again." He held up the card he just drew to his brother. "This one's exactly what I needed."

Les looked worried. "Is it a five?" he asked quietly, burrowing his head into his hand of cards.

David looked up to the ceiling as he flung the card over. "Damn it! Take it, you little rat."

Les smiled widely as he put down all four fives. He grinned at the three cards left in his hand. He turned to his brother's friend. "Do you have any aces?"

"Ugh," Bumlets replied, throwing a card Les' way. "You got me kid. What else you got in that hand of yours?"

Les burst into a big smile. "Nothing!" he declared as he laid four aces down. He waved his empty hands around. "I won! Losers have to clean up!" he shouted loudly before jumping off his chair and running away.

Bumlets laughed. "Cute kid," he said as he started gathering the cards up.

"Yeah, he's an absolute joy," David replied a little sarcastically. He started putting away the dishes from the dinner they had made. "It's always a lot better with company though, so thanks for that."

"No problem," Bumlets said. He finished gathering up the cards and slid them back into their box. "Speaking of company, where the hell is Itey? I haven't seen him since he went upstairs to take that dump."

David frowned and looked at the clock. "Yeah, you're right. He and Sarah both missed dinner. You think he's alright?"

Bumlets shrugged. "He's probably taking the biggest crap in the world. I can't believe that ass came over just so he could clog up your toilet."

David frowned and scrunched his nose. "You don't think he's going to clog the toilet, do you? What if he doesn't know how to turn the water off or work a plunger? I don't wanna have to clean up toilet water."

Bumlets laughed. "It'll be more than that you'll be cleaning up."

David's whole face started scrunching as he thought about how nasty and poop-covered his bathroom could possibly be.

Bumlets smiled and laughed louder. "Relax, Davey. I'll go check on him. I'm sure we would have heard some shouting if he'd broken anything."

David frowned and looked at the clock. "Yeah, you're right. It's about time for him to be going, too. I lost track of time; it's almost Les' bedtime. My parents shouldn't be home for a couple more hours, but there's really no telling with them. A lot of the time they try to be home before Les goes to bed so they can say goodnight."

"Alright," Bumlets replied. "Well, how about I go upstairs and find the wanker? You can stay down here and finish doing the dishes. You know, like a good housewife."

"Watch it!" David snapped immediately at the insult. His scowl dropped. "But good plan. Go to it. And if you see Les tell him to either get to bed or come back down and help clean. It should be easier to make him sleep that way"

"Gotcha," Bumlets said as he got up from his chair at the kitchen table. "I'm sure the tyke's gloating about his victory in the living room." He laughed as he started heading that way.

David put his hands on his hips and sighed. He shook his head. Today had been a lot more stressful than he would have liked, but, surprisingly, it hadn't been a bad day at all. He supposed he owed Sarah for that. At least partially, anyway. And maybe, just maybe, breaking the rules wasn't as awful as he had thought it was. He was having a pretty good time of it so far.

He rolled up his sleeves and started filling up the sink. So where was the line, then? When was it ok to break the rules and when wasn't it? Rules were there for a reason. He had always been told that. But the fact that he broke the rules was the only reason Bumlets was over. It was the only reason he was able to stand up to Specs. So if breaking the rules was sometimes the right thing to do … when was it the wrong thing to do? If rules weren't a proper measure of what was right or wrong what was? How could he determine when he was making the right choice?

He heard a door knob turn from the living room, and he shot up from his stooped position. His heart immediately started racing. Oh god, he hoped that was Les, and not who he thought it was.

"I don't know where he went," David heard Bumlets' voice say. "I can't find the little sucker anywhere. Maybe he went out the window?"

"Can't find who?" David heard his mother ask.

"Fuck!" David muttered quietly to himself. He dropped the dish he was washing into the water and quickly walked towards the living room.

"Les," Bumlets lied to Mrs. Jacobs. "He's a lot better at playing hide and seek than I thought."

David walked into the living room fast enough to catch his father's glare.

"Have you looked behind you yet?" Mr. Jacobs asked, looking towards the stairs.

Bumlets turned to see Les bouncing on the stairs right behind him. He laughed brokenly. "There you are! My, my, you sure are good at this game, aren't you?"

"I'm awesome at it!" Les declared, thinking Bumlets was talking about Go Fish. "I smoked you both!"

Mrs. Jacobs laughed. "Well, I am glad to hear that. I'm happy you all could play together." She looked at her youngest son. "But I think it's someone's bedtime now, don't you?"

Les pouted. "Already?"

"Yes," Mr. Jacobs said, "Already. But if you hurry up we'll tuck you in."

Les quickly nodded before leaping up the stairs. "Davey already helped me brush my teeth all by myself!" he declared.

"You helped him do it all by myself, huh?" Bumlets asked David quietly as everyone else went upstairs. "Didn't even realize that was possible."

"It's not," David answered distractedly. "Where do you think Itey is?" he asked as quietly as he could. "If my parents find him they'll kill me. I can't get grounded on top of my already being grounded. I don't even know how that works. And Sarah sure isn't going to take the fall for me after our fight. We have to find him and get him out of here before my parents do. They absolutely cannot find him." His eyes were wide and he started to wheeze slightly from lack of air. "This was a bad idea."

"Just relax, David," Bumlets pleaded. "I was serious when I said he went out the window. He does that sort of thing. I looked everywhere upstairs and couldn't find him. I even checked the damn closets. There's nothing for you to worry about."

Suddenly they both heard yelling from upstairs.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, young lady?!" They heard Mr. Jacobs yell.

Bumlets immediately paled. "I never checked Sarah's room though."

David's eyes widened. "What the hell would he be doing in my sister's room?!"

Bumlets shrugged while trying to hide the smile from his face. "It's not like your sister isn't hot."

"Ew! Bumlets! Ew!" David started pacing. "He wouldn't do that. He couldn't. Right?" He turned to Bumlets and paused before he smashed his face into his hands. "Good fucking lord, what if he did?!"

Just then Itey came running down the stairs sans shirt. "Thanks for having me," he said quickly as he ran past them. "It was great fun. Let's do this again sometime," he continued as he rapidly fiddled with the lock on the front door. "Okay. Bye." He took off through the front door and kept running up the street.

David opened his mouth and gurgled something intelligible. His face was very quickly becoming red.

Bumlets' eyes widened. "I'm going to go, alright?" he asked slowly. "This seems kind of like a family moment," he said before scooting towards the door. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay?"

"So where are the eats?" Skittery asked, pulling the silent boy by the arm. He couldn't really figure out why he had abducted someone, but he supposed that's what people did in gangs. Might as well get some practice in, right?

The guy did a lot of pointing and some tilts of the head, but he refrained from speaking.

Skittery cocked his head to the side. He didn't understand all the flourishes the kid was doing. They were getting confusing. "So … up, then to the left, up again, go to the right, then go down, do a loop de loop, and turn around?"

The kid smacked himself in the face with an open palm. "Will you let go of me please?" he croaked out. He hated being touched.

Skittery loosened his grip as the arm was ripped away. "Well, Jesus, I didn't know that I was gross. So where's this loop de loop you're talking about?" he asked while continuing to climb the stairs.

The guy shook his head and started moving his hands around again.

"Up? To the left, then go back down, go straight, then up again, left one more time, and then it'll be the second door on the right? What happened to the loop de loop?"

The guy violently shook his head.

"Where am I going then? Fucking talk, damn you! I hate being lost. I don't even know how to get back to my room from here."

"Go down, idiot," the guy replied. He shook his head again.

"You don't have to be such a bitch," Skittery muttered. "I was trying to be friendly, you know. Who the fuck are you anyway?"

"Who the fuck are you?" the guy repeated.

"Skittery," Skitts answered, clearly not offended. "Now who the fuck are you? And why don't you fucking talk?"

The boy looked at him square in the eye for a couple seconds. "Don't worry about it."

Skittery scratched his head. "To which question?"

"Both."

Skittery rolled his eyes. "Shit, you sure are annoying. What's your problem with fucking talking? I'm never going to find any food if you don't tell me where to go."

He just shrugged.

"God damn you!" Skittery shouted, he wound his arm back to lightly, lightly smack the kid. He was hoping to knock some words out of his mouth. But somehow he just ended up on his back. "How the fuck?" he asked, leaping up. "How the fuck did you do that?"

"It would've been more than that, but I understand break ups put people under a massive amount of stress."

Skittery narrowed his eyes. "What? Who the fuck told you that? Sean? I can't fucking believe this. When did the Brooklyn gang turn into a bunch of gossipers, huh? This is fucking ridiculous."

"No one told me. Heartbreak's pretty easy to spot. Especially when you've just broken up with a soulmate."

Skitts scrunched up his eyebrows. "Who the fuck are you? Am I dreaming? Did I hit my head too hard against something? Is my brain on drugs?"

"I'm Stealth," Stealth answered calmly.

"And I'm dreaming. Obviously," Skittery answered, looking around. "When can I wake up?"

Stealth shook his head, but Skittery wasn't looking. "I don't think …" He patted himself on the chest. "I feel real."

"Well, of course you would. It makes perfect sense a figment would feel real to himself. But how could you know about me and Itey unless you were made up in my brain?"

Stealth shrugged. "Fair point."

"Obviously I'm just going crazy," Skittery said, waving his hands around. "No, I'm dreaming, right? Of course I am. You're probably a ghost or something, right?" He grabbed on to Stealth's face, expecting it not to be solid.

Stealth slapped him. People touching him was something he didn't like to put up with.

"Ow, fucker," Skitts swore, touching his stinging cheek. "That really hurt, you know."

"Guess that means you aren't dreaming."

"Mm … you are right about that one," Skittery replied. "So am I going crazy then? Or maybe I was slipped some acid or LSD or some haze or something."

Stealth rolled his eyes. "Those are all the same thing."

Skittery waved it off. "Whatever. The point is I'm not in my right mind right now. I just need to lay down and sleep it off. His stomach growled. "But first
I need to eat something, so where's the cafeteria in this bitch?"

Stealth sighed. This was never going to end. He had just wanted to be alone for a little bit in the basement. "Down a flight. Right. Double doors straight ahead."

"Sweet. Now those directions I can actually understand. Thanks, dude."

Racetrack bounced another paper off the lid of the trash can. He sighed. Being grounded fucking sucked. He didn't even have any homework to do.

"This sucks," he said to no one. So what if he gambled? He was responsible with it. He'd never been in the hole with anyone because of it. He'd never stolen money for it. Anything he ever put on the line was his, so what did it matter?

His mom just wanted to ruin his life. And Sean wasn't being any kind of help. And he felt all alone without Blink and Mush around.

"This sucks," he repeated. He leaned back on his desk chair and balanced a pen across his upper lip. Maybe he should just sneak out tonight. It was only his dad home, after all. He could leave, go to Brooklyn, gamble a bit, then come right back. The chances of his dad coming in to check on him was minimal. "One in twenty," he said to himself. "Which means a ninety-five percent chance of not getting caught." With such favorable statistics how could he not sneak out?

Right, okay. It was decided then. He was getting extremely tired of wasting away his afternoons. He was only a kid for so long, after all. It was his obligation to enjoy it for as long as he could, right? Right.

He got up and made for his window. It was a pretty easy escape route. Just out, to the overlooking tree, then down. It was easy and fast; the two things imperative to leaving his mom's house without getting caught.

He pried up the window slowly, making sure it didn't squeak. Then, while holding the window open with one hand, he started peeling off the screen with the other.

Opening the escape route was probably the hardest and slowest part. Once he got through the window it was all downhill from there.

He stuck a leg out first. Then his arm. Then he leaned his head down to get that out the window as well. So far things were going very smoothly.

"Anthony?" his dad asked, stepping inside the bedroom.

"Dad?!" Racetrack asked back, his eyes big. He quickly tried to climb back in. The window pane dropped fast onto his shoulder, and he slammed his head on the glass trying to make it back inside.

"Anthony!" his dad repeated. He got to the window in two strides and helped pull his son through it. "What the hell do you think you're doing? That's dangerous, you idiot!"

Racetrack looked at the floor. "Sorry, Dad. I promise it won't happen again, sir."

"You better hope not," his dad replied. "Because if I ever see you like that again I'm pushing your dumbass out. Why do you always refuse to behave when I watch you? Huh? Do you want me to be as strict as your mother?"

"Of course not."

"Then why are you acting like it? I'm trying to make your mom loosen up on you," his dad continued. "I really am. But you're constantly sabotaging the work I'm doing. Your mom isn't going to pay attention to my methods if my methods don't work."

Racetrack hung his head. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't realize."

Mr. Higgins nodded. "Well, now that you do maybe you'll show a little more effect, hm?" He jerked his head towards the stairs. "Now hurry up. Your friends are waiting downstairs."

Racetrack's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. "Blink and Mush!? For real, Pop? Thank you!" He rushed out his door, in too much of a hurry to wait around for a response.

"Just make sure not to make me regret it by climbing out your window again!" Mr. Higgins shouted at his son's back. He shook his head and smiled. Damnit, his son sure was an idiot sometimes, but he was a good boy. It was a shame his wife felt that she had to be so strict with him.

Racetrack was charging down the stairs, oblivious to his father's thoughts. He leapt over the last two steps and spun into the living room. "Blink! Mush!"

"Racetrack!" Blink and Mush both called out, jumping up and embracing their friend.

"It feels like it's been forever!" Race said. "Where have you two been? What have you been doing with yourselves, huh? What have I missed?"

"Skittery and Itey have been growing on us," Blink replied. "Well, sorta, anyway. I guess we've been growing more on Itey than Skittery."

Racetrack frowned. "Why? Is Skittery being a dick? Do I need to go kick his ass? He's not messing with you two, is he?"

Mush laughed and waved his hand in the air. "Skittery's fine. He's just going through some things right now, and he's … uh … unfortunately taking out his anger on the wrong people."

Racetrack's frown refused to let up. "Is that you trying to convince me not to fight him? 'Cause it sounds like he could use a nice kick to the balls."

"No kicking anyone in the balls, Anthony," Mr. Higgins said as he walked through the living room.

"But, Dad! He's being a dick to my friends."

"Then talk it out, like real men," his dad replied. "I suppose you could threaten to kick him in the balls, but only as a last resort." His eyes widened for a second. "And don't tell your mother I told you that," he demanded before making it to the kitchen.

Mush and Blink both laughed.

"Seriously, though," Racetrack continued through the laughter. "Do I need to go have a talk with this guy? 'Cause I will if you ask me to."

"No. No," Blink replied. "He'll be fine. He's just going through some things and stressing out too much. It's nothing a little time won't fix."

"If you say so," Race replied.

"I do. I do," Blink replied. "We haven't seen each other in forever. We need to be spending this time talking about important things."

"Like what?"

Mush picked the conversation up. "Like what have you been doing with yourself? Are you doing all right? Have you already replaced us with better friends? How mad is your mom? Are you still going into Brooklyn to gamble? Are you being safe? How's school? Anything giving you trouble? Anyone giving you trouble?"

Racetrack laughed. "I can only answer one at a time. Stop overwhelming me!" he replied, still laughing. "Let's see, of course you two haven't been replaced. There's no one in the world who could. I'm doing fine, so's school. Mom's pretty mad. She's sending me to this stupid gambling rehabilitation center every Sunday now, courtesy of Sean."

"A rehabilitation center for gambling?" Blink asked. "She's for real?"

Racetrack nodded. "Completely serious. Fucking Sean talked her into the whole thing. I swear he's trying to ruin my life. She refuses to let me out of it, no matter what I promise her." He rolled his eyes. "She says it's important I fight my addiction early on in my life or some shit like that."

"I'm sorry, Racetrack," Mush replied. "So what's this place like? How bad is it?"

"Completely awful," Racetrack said. "Everyone there's batshit crazy, including the counselor. Shit, the counselor's probably the worst one. Last time I went I just ended up leaving. I can't stand it there."

"It sounds dreadful," Mush replied. "But I guess what else would you expect from Sean, right? Is there anything we can do?"

Racetrack shook his head. "I don't think so. I guess it's just one of those things I need to get through. I can't think of a way around going to the stupid thing. I'll be ok … I think."

"Well, if that's not convincing, I don't know what is," Blink replied sarcastically. "We came to help, Race. We just don't know how. Give us some direction. Tell us what to do and we'll do it."

"That's just the thing, though. I have no idea what to do. I don't have a clue how to get out of this. I can't talk to my mom. I can't skip going. I can't keep leaving it. I'm out of plans. We're just going to have to wait and see," Racetrack said.

Blink and Mush both frowned. That didn't sound like Racetrack. Race was a man of action. He always had plans. If one didn't work he was right there with a second one, or a third, or a twenty-fourth.

"If you say so," Mush finally gave in. "Just let us know if you think of anything, okay? We're here to help."

"Of course," Racetrack replied. "Thank you." He looked at the clock. "I loved all this catching up, and I really missed you guys. I think my mom'll be home soon though. Best to get out while you can."

"Say no more," Blink said, standing up. "Definitely don't want to be here when the beast gets home." He gave Racetrack a hug and started heading for the door.

"We'll talk soon, okay?" Mush said, standing as well and embracing his friend. "Just don't get down on yourself."

"Thanks guys. I'll see you two later, okay? This was really nice." Racetrack continued smiling until the door closed behind his two friends. Then he frowned as guilt set in.

So he had kind of lied. Though he had no stable plan, per se, he did have a course of action in mind. He was sure Sean was hiding the answer somewhere. All that was needed was a nice, big confrontation. Why hadn't he told Blink and Mush? Why did he want to confront Sean on his own so bad? He had no idea.

David walked into Sarah's room after their parents went to bed. He closed the door behind him and turned off the small television set Sarah had been watching. "I need to talk to you," David said, turning to her. "Now."

Sarah just rolled her eyes. "You are talking to me, shit-for-brains. And I don't want to hear any of it. Now get out of my room. I never gave you permission to come in." She turned back on the television with her remote.

"I don't give a fuck what you want right now," David bit out. He jerked out the television cord from its wall outlet. "Turn that shit on again and I'm throwing it through the mother fucking god damn window."

Sarah finally straightened up in bed. She couldn't help her mouth dropping open slightly. "What the hell got up your ass, baby brother?" she asked, no longer sounding mad. "I didn't even know you knew the word 'fuck'. Did you finally start letting yourself watch R-rated movies?"

"Cut the shit, Sarah," David demanded. "You want to explain to me what the hell you were doing with Itey for fucking hours and hours while Bumlets and I watched Les without any of your god damn help?" he hissed out.

Sarah rolled her eyes again. "You're here because of that stupid shit?" she scoffed. "We talked, Davy. Nothing happened, not that it's any of your business anyway. You think we fucked or something? Exactly when the hell did you start thinking of me as a huge slut?"

"Since Itey ran out my front door without a shirt on," David replied, crossing his arms. He glared at his sister. "And you expect me to believe that for over four hours all you guys did was talk? That both of you completely missed dinner so you could keep right on talking. That's a load of bullshit."

"Well, that's what fucking happened!" Sarah yelled back. "I can't believe you don't have more faith in me than that. Especially since Itey's in man-love with his ex-boyfriend anyway. I already had to ward off Mom and Dad, but I thought you, of all people, wouldn't accuse me of banging a gay dude."

"He ran out without a shirt on, Sarah! Exactly what the hell am I supposed to be thinking?" David replied quietly. His anger was very slowly draining.

"You're supposed to be thinking that I wouldn't do something like that, and he wouldn't do something like that. And it was a fucking joke he decided to do all by himself because we were already caught anyway," Sarah said. "A horrible idea, I know. But while he was explaining it to me I thought it was funny, so I didn't stop him. Now I'm grounded for three weeks for listening to all his pathetic boyfriend stories."

"What kind of pathetic boyfriend stories?" David asked, sitting down on his sister's bed.

"Private, pathetic boyfriend stories," Sarah replied. She looked at her brother acting depressed on the edge of her bed. She kicked him with her foot. "Meaning you should probably go ask him yourself, yea? I'm sure he'd love to tell you all about it. I couldn't get him to shut up once he started going on about it." She rolled her eyes and smiled. "And I know how you love listening to other people's problems."

David let out a small laugh. "Yea, that's true enough, I guess." He looked at his sister. "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, Sarah. I shouldn't have thought like that."

"Thank you," Sarah said. "I always wait until the second date to have sex with a guy, after all."

David's eyes bulged as he jerked off the bed.

Sarah laughed and threw a pillow at him. "I'm kidding, you dweeb! Now plug my TV back in and get the hell out of my room."

Skittery walked into the mess hall by himself. That silent kid had somehow managed to slip away. 'Stealth' indeed. "Damn bastard was probably just a fucking figment anyway."

He looked toward the long line waiting to get food. He rolled his eyes. This shit was going to take forever. And he was hungry now. Maybe he could steal somebody else's. That's what gangs did, right? Yep. Right. It was decided then.

Skittery snatched the first moving sandwich he saw and took a bite out of it. He scrunched up his face and put it back.

The big kid with the tray stopped in front of him. "What the fuck? I was going to eat that. What the fuck are you thinking?"

"What the fuck are you thinking? Who the fuck puts pickles on a ham sandwich?" Skittery asked, looking down at the other guy's stomach. "Plus, you don't need it, Chubby."

The kid's eyes widened has he dropped his tray to the floor and clenched his fists. He took a step forward. "I'm going to make you regret that one."

"What are you going to do? Eat me?"

The kid was turning red now. And shaking too. Maybe Skittery had gone too far this time. Just as he was finally realizing he was about to get the shit punched out of him the other kid turned tail and ran.

Skittery turned around, curious as to what the fat bastard had seen. "Quiet kid!"

"Stealth," the quiet kid corrected.

"Stealth!" Skittery repeated. "You saved my life!"

"You were committing suicide."

Skittery laughed. "Very true."

"God damn it! What the fuck, you creepy son of a bitch? I wanted to see him get his face smashed in!" a kid yelled as he walked up to them. The kid was looking pretty hurt. He had a black eye and tape all over his nose. He had blood leaking out of the scratch on his cheek, and he seemed to be limping a bit.

A second person was following him. "Shut up the fuck up, Hunter. You would be in the hospital right now if Slingshot hadn't saved your ass less than an hour ago."

"Hey! I've never done something as stupid as that!" Hunter replied, pointing at Skittery. "He deserved to get his ass kicked."

"So did you," the second guy stated.

"Shut up, Bam," Hunter said. "I did not. I was just teasing."

"So was I," Skittery replied. "And being a gangster."

Bam and Hunter turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. Stealth had already disappeared again.

Hunter turned to Bam. "Who the fuck is this kid?"

Bam shrugged. "I dunno. New recruit? What I really want to know is how he knows Stealth." He crossed his arms and turned to look at Skittery again.

Skittery shrugged. "I met him in the basement today."

Hunter tilted his head to the side. "Is that a metaphor for … like … something gay?"

"No, you idiot," Skittery replied. "'I met him in the basement' meaning 'I met him in the fucking basement'. How the fuck is that a metaphor for anything, you stupid piece of shit?"

Hunter cracked his knuckles. "Right now I'm thinking it's a metaphor for 'I'm a fucking retard who can't learn his god damn lesson.' Do you want to be beat up today? Because I'll be happy to oblige."

Bam rolled his eyes and shoved Hunter back a few steps. "Stop acting all big and bad. We're all in the same gang here." He extended his hand. "I'm Bam." He jerked his head toward Hunter. "This douchebag goes by Hunter."

"Skittery," Skitts replied, returning the handshake. "There anyway to avoid that huge ass line to get some food?"

Bam shook his head. "Unless you've got some money to go out somewhere I'm afraid not."

"Damn it."

"Don't worry," Bam replied, putting his hand on Skittery's shoulder. "It's faster when you have someone with you."

They both walked to the end of the line, leaving Hunter behind, forgotten.

Hopefully it was worth the wait!