Izz’s hands were shoved into his pants pockets and his shoulders were hunched against the cool night air. “I’m not into thatanymore. Count me out, man,” he was saying as Dante approached from behind.
“Hey,” said Dante. He couldn’t think of anything else to say to announce his presence. The other two guys scowled when Dante stopped beside Izz, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He towered over and outweighed both the other dudes by a fair bit.
The appearance of the other men struck Dante as menacing. The taller of the two had a mop of greasy brown hair with too long bangs that he kept having to roll his head to flick them from his face. Bad hair boy wore a black hoodie with some athletic team logo emblazoned on it in bright red. The other man had on a metal rock band T-shirt on that was about three sizes too big—if he added a slim belt it would’ve been a cute dress—and at least four gold chains of cheap bling.