Things Are Rough All Over

Soc- West-side rich kid

"Can't no one ever beat me in poker", Liam yelled slamming down his dealt hand, defeating the rest of the gang.

"No one can ever beat me in poker", I mumbled correcting his terrible grammar.

"Shut up you little jerk".

I leaned against a doorway leading to our poolroom, pulling a cigar from the pocket of my jersey from our Junior Varsity football team. I don't even like or play football so I looked like a fool.

"I hate you Davis", Matthew whispered throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Come on, you love me", Liam joked elbowing him in the ribs

"You got me", John said chuckling "How do you always manage to win Liam, I mean it's insane"

I snicker to myself lighting my smoke.

"What" Matthew asked looking up at me like I knew something he didn't, which I did but wouldn't ever admit.

"You snake you know something", I placed the cigar to my lips inhaling the smoke. I held it in almost doubling over, but didn't desperate to look cool, calm, and collected before puffing it out in circles, like my brothers had taught me.

"Maybe I do maybe I don't", I suggested putting the stick back to my lips, doing my trademark suggestive eyebrow wiggle implying that they were correct.

"Oh you prick you know how he wins", I released the smoke from my mouth.

"Do I ?"

Before I knew what'd happened John and Liam were chasing me through our neighborhood yelling profanities and slurs.

Once I'd reached the alleyway behind Alvarez and Ninth I had to take a break. I'd ditched the boys a couple streets back. I doubled over barely able to even attempt to fix my breathing.

Once I'd steadied my breathing fit I straightened out my back unintentionally catching eyes with a young boy. He looked a little younger than me 12 maybe 13 he had large silver grey eyes that looked like they'd seen to much. His hair was disheveled and seemed to confirm the traumatic look. He wore a black beater that was covered in bleach stains accompanied by a blue jacket that was partially zipped up and a pair of simple gray sweatpants. He had white straight rouge hair and pierced ears. I'd never seen a man with pierced ears. He looked ice cold like someone had dropped him in ice water and thrown him in a freezer. Ice. Cold. Like his stare which was short lived when my brothers rounded the corner on their bikes almost running my over in the process.

I quickly forgot about the strange boy as I attempted to ditched the trio of jocks.

I felt johns hand grip my waist as I tried to run

"You're not going far Micheal", my head collided with the ground as he pulled me down.

"Alright be careful", I heard a faint ringing in my ears.

"Yeah Johnny you don't wanna knock him out", I look over at Liam with a toothpick between his lips.

"Alright, alright", John let go of me, but before I knew it he'd grabbed my collar, pulling me up.

"You good", he asked backing away from me.

"Yeah", I whimpered my head throbbing.

"We'd better scat were in greaser territory", Matthew suggested running a hand through his hair. Matthew had dark brown almost black hair that ran down to his shoulders in tight noddle like curls. He looked like a hood always wearing his leather no matter what. It was kinda sad how good looking he was, he never put his looks to good use claimed he "respected women" to much. I don't get it. He had light brown eyes the seemed to shine near large bodies of water. He was lean and enjoyed exercising. He had his dad's eyes which I'd never tell him. He had never met his dad and seemed like he wanted it to stay that way. Though no one except me, my brothers, and the rest of the gang knew, Liam's father was a negro. He has tan skin and full lips and has curly hair so honestly, I'd expect it.