Amson, 18, "Loose"

"Well, we-- uh..." Deuce tried responding, but Ty interrupted him. 

Ty subconsciously forced Deuce behind himself, and as I stood behind them, I remained on guard, watching that gun with every inch of my ability. The guy, himself, was tall, much taller than I could make out from where we'd stood during that fight, and looking at his features, it was even more evident who we were likely dealing with.

It was more than clear that the guy was some sort of gang grunt.

He had tattoos lining both arms entirely, and a purple bracelet on his wrist read, "Dampha", clearly the name of his affiliation. His face was, of course, battered and bruised from his fight with Fuckbelt, and he heaved for air, that gun likely the sole thing keeping the motherfucker upright.

"Woah, woah." Ty tried reasoning with the guy. "What do we gotta go around point guns for, brother?"

"You motherfuckers were sittin' back, laughing your asses off, weren't ya." He pointed his gun at Ty's face, and he watched as Ty's expression was wiped, backing away. "Looks at ya now, bitch."

"I promise you, blud." Ty tried reshaping that composed exterior. "Trust me. We're chill. W--"

Ty glanced backward, his eyes locking onto Fuckbelt's laptop.

"W-We've got that kid's laptop, spick-n-shit." Ty pointed. 

He scoffed under his breath. 

"I don' want that shit no more." His eyes darted to where I stood, pushing past Ty and Deuce. "Hey, white boy. Run yo shit."

As he approached, his gun slowly raised to my face, and standing there, in that oh-so-familiar situation, I felt nothing. All I knew was that I wasn't giving the guy anything of mine. In my bag, only my shoes and school supplies sat comfortably, but knowing how petty this guy was, I wasn't going to count out the possibility he'd take my shit in spite. 

"No." I said, squarely. 

He was taken aback, and I saw Ty and Deuce's bewildered expressions from the corner of my eye. 

"No?" He struggled processing my response, but once he did, that gun touched my forehead. "The fuck'd you just say to me, tough guy? I said... Run. Yo. Shit."

"I can't give them to you." I reiterated. 

"The fuck you can!" He grabbed my backpack from over my shoulder. 

I clenched my fist, ready to swing, but Ty stopped me, forcing my hand back to my side. He jammed his face into my shoulder for only a moment, but I could hear his words loud and clear. 

"Give up the bag, Am." He mouthed angrily. 

I allowed the bag to roll over my shoulder as the guy ripped it off my back. It hurt, sucking up to a punk-ass bitch like him, hiding behind that fucking thing. Looking at him now, he was already so vulnerable, and with Ty and Deuce at my side, we could take this loser... but for some reason, they held me back. 

It was likely fear that brought them to such a conclusion, but that fear was ungrounded. He had his attention on that bag; he was clearly untrained with that gun. 

Watching as he rummaged through my shit only pissed me off more. He tossed my things onto the ground like dirt, and as he did it, he made sure to add an extra two cents. 

"Boring. Boring. Boring." He finally grabbed my shoes, dangling them as he inspected their surface. "What the fu-- You motherfuckers are boring as fuck." 

He threw my shoes to the ground. 

"Kck." My mouth clicked by habit.

Hearing that nearly set me over that brink, the brink where I might lose all control over my function. I felt the straining in my arm, and knowing the extent of my anger in that moment, if he'd gotten too close to me, I would've taken the guy's head off or damn near. 

My parents broke their backs trying to get me those shoes...

"Hmm..." He suddenly turned around, his eyes passing me. "Well, shit..."

She tossed my bag to the ground, right beside my shoes. Walking toward me, I saw the grin along his face, but he wasn't smiling at me... He was smiling as his eyes trailed every inch of my bike. 

Why did I reciprocate that smile?

It was as if my face itched at the thought that he'd come and take it from me. I felt the veins in my arm pulsing, nearly bleeding through my skin with the pressure. He passed me, and I turned, looking at him from the brink of his perception, waiting for one trip of that fragile, egotistical bravado.

"And I had you motherfuckers pinned for pussies..." He scoffed. "Soft, boring bitch pussies..."

He placed that gun in his pocket as he began to kneel over my bike. That was my chance.

"No..." I heard a nearly indiscernible whisper. 

Pulling my arm to my side, Ty stopped me once again, and as much as I tugged, it wouldn't come loose. He was overpowering me-- Why was he stopping me?! That gun was gone, we could get even with this douche for disrespecting us like this! Was he so desperate, just to ensure this bitch'd had his full of humiliating us. We had nothing to do with him, and his fight...

'It's unfair...' I thought, grunting. 

The gangster hopped onto my bike, beginning to take off, but not before landing that haymaker to my core.

"Don't be so upset, white boy." He laughed. "I'm sure Ma and Pops'll get you another pussy-ride. Grand spanking new... I bet your ass and some chips."

I froze.

The guy stopped at Deuce, who was still holding that fucking laptop. 

"Where's the Asian prick?" He asked calmly. "Imma kill that English bitch."

Deuce hesitated for only a moment before pointing in the direction of the bench. 

"You sure?" He continued. "Cuz if you're lying to me, half-n-half, it's you and your friends' asses."

"Too sure-- So~ sure, my friend."

He stared at Deuce for a good while before taking off with my bike, leaving the three of us there, disheveled, deserted, and defeated. Ty still gripped firmly to my arm, making it nearly glued to my hip. 

"Turn my arm loose, man." I told him, pulling my arm from his iron grip. 

I rubbed the slight burn and knelt before my bag, placing my belongings carefully back inside. It was a strange feeling, as if I didn't truly believe that the event was reality. It was so sudden, and I couldn't understand why any human being would assume to know who I was, especially someone as ignorant to the real world as that guy was. 

My family is, relatively speaking, poor, and though we have it better than some, we have it worse than most. That bike was something I'd held precious to me for so long; it spelled the beginning of an era in my lifetime, the beginning of my journey through high-school.

To think it'd be gone, just like that...

Deuce looked at me, then at Ty, cradling the laptop under his arm. He began approaching me from the side as he spoke.

"We needa get the fuck outta here." He said urgently. "Who knows how long it'll take a cunt like him to figure out we jipped the hell outta his bitch-ass."

"You mean you lied?!" Ty lashed out, trying his damnedest to be quiet. "Who the fuck's playing with lives now, D?!"

"Fuck, yeah; I lied to that motherfucker!" Deuce proudly affirmed. "What'd you think I was gonna do, allow that bitch to disrespect us like that? Secondly, how the fuck're we supposed to know where CQ is? That English bugger is prolly long gone by now."

Deuce knelt beside me, helping me gather my things. I wanted to swat his hand away, but I felt weak, unfit to even carry my bag. 'How was I going to get home? What would Mom and Dad think?' Those thoughts filled my mind, dragging my hands to their eventual halt and leaving Deuce to place my things in my bag. 

"Who the hell does that guy think we are?" Deuce added. "If he didn't have that goddamn strap, this motherfucker would've prolly taken that bitch's head off."

Deuce scoffed, pointing his thumb at me.

"Enough, D." Ty said. 

"Says you, bitch." Deuce retaliated with sass. "You ain't done shit, like you're goddamn frozen stiff or some shit. Come help me. Bro just lost his bike, man."

It took a second for Ty to come to my aid, leading each step with his punctured will. Before, he hadn't moved an inch from that spot. 

///

Deuce, Myself, and Ty dragged ourselves from the barren Dame Coccinelle. We walked with haste, but assuming the two of them were in the same state as me, we each had no clue how were were going to get home. It'd be dangerous for them to continue on skateboards, as whenever that gang grunt finds out Deuce lied to them, he'd eventually catch up with five gears worth of hustle. 

Looking at Ty, it seemed he wanted to say something to me, but he withheld it, leaving only that expression along his face as evidence. However, it was likely for the best, as I wasn't yet within the mind to accept anything more than the chatter that Deuce continued to entertain.

It was likely that Deuce was the most present in the situation, a strength I'm sure Ty and I both envied.

"Oi!" A voice whispered loudly, projected to the three of us. "Lads!"

Regrettably, I could recognize that vernacular anywhere. Not more than twenty feet from the entrance was a black van, and behind it stood CQ, being lugged in by Fuckbelt who stood behind him. They hardly looked like they were even hiding, just staking it out behind that vehicle, but in stark contrast to Fuckbelt, CQ was being all but, at the very least, low profile, waving us down with that arm held high.