Alexander Pov
       "Still wanna go on that date?"

"I-I...yeah I'd like that." I said, blushing.

I thought you would." He said, smiling.

For a second I almost forgot that I was in a Juvenile Military School/Bootcamp thingy. A loud crackle interrupted is. John groaned.

"Hello delinquents! Everyone go to A1! We will be doing playing pellet! Again, everyone go to A1! Thank you, over."

The speaker crackled again. I looked at John. "Pellet?" I asked.

"It's this stupid game. It's basically paint ball but as you go the 'weapons' get more advanced the longer you stay in. The farthest I've seen it go was tasers. It was pretty fucking scary. I'm almost certain it goes further than tasers." He said obviously annoyed with the whole idea. I gave a slight nod, still confused.

I followed him to wherever A1 was and stood amongst about two hundred guys. There was a small stage. Washington was on it.

"Alright gentlemen! You know the game. Only ten teams! If you aren't too hot on math that's 20 guys per team!"

"But Washington! I can't read!" A boy shouted.

"...so? Just shut up, go home and pull ya damn pants up! Go into teams. Now!" He ordered.

I stayed by John. I was in a group with Thomas, Laf, Herc, John and some people I didn't know the name of.

"You," Washington started, "Are going to be called the Revolutionary Set!" He called off other names too.

I wasn't really listening. When do I ever listen though. Just give me a paint gun and let me go. Or a taser. Give me a fucking taser. Cuz that's a good idea, giving a bunch of teenagers with behavioral issues weapons. I'm slightly scared but want to see where this goes.

John Pov
      I would usually purposefully get out before even the BB guns are even out but with Alex here? I'm not going to lie, I have the obligation to protect him.

"I don't wanna play this game. I never win shit!" Herc told me, while Adams slammed his hands with a paint gun.

"I know. We are always on the same team. And we always lose." I muttered.

"Not this time. Not with me here." Alex said.

Yeah sure Alex. I doubt he even knows how to use a paintball gun. Heck I punt he's ever seen a BB gun.

"Have you ever even shot a paintball gun?" Laf asked Alex.

"No, but I have shot a Remington Model 1100 and might I say, it was awesome."

"...a What now?" Herc asked.

Alex sighed. "Uncultured swines. It's a gas operated semi-automatic shotgun. And they are awesome. Well until the cops find out you're in the alley shooting cans with your brother. Heh. Good times." He muttered that last bit.

"You have a brother?" I asked.

"Had. I had a brother. He's dead. James was a prick but he didn't deserve what happened to him. Shoulda happened to me. Scratch that, we should've gone down together. I could imagine the news. 'Hamilton brothers! Found dead in devastating hurricane! Yes, the Hamilton Brothers! The fight nonstop Hamilton brothers, you know the ones. It's a small town. The ones that steal all the pastry from Mr.Johnsons homemade stand on 56th street."

I noticed the tears brimming in his eyes.

"I'm glad you didn't." I muttered.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm glad you didn't die."

He chuckled. "Ya know what? I like you a lot, Laurens."