After school the next day, Ben invited us over to his house.  Apparently his parents were going to be out, and they said he could have us over, so we went.  Everyone had been worried about me at school.  I guess sporting a cut on my eyebrow and a bruise wasn't all that great but I didn't want to tell them about everything that happened.  Instead, I made up an excuse that I hit my head on my desk last night because I fell asleep while doing homework.  I knew they didn't believe me—they just nodded along because they knew I wouldn't tell them what actually had happened to me.  I was stronger than that and none of them really wanted to anger me with continuing the conversation.

"Okay, okay, what is the scariest thing that has happened to you?" Trevor asked us, taking a hand full of popcorn and shoveling it into his mouth.  "I'll go first.  Getting lost in the woods with my friend when we were little."

It made us laugh, Trevor saying that he would always remember how scared he was that day even though he wasn't truly lost.  I listened to Ben talk about when he got a concussion from football and his parents had threatened that he wouldn't be able to play the sport anymore.  Denice said it was scary when her dad was in the hospital and Gloria said she was scared of dogs.  It was my turn to go, and while I was scared of my neighborhood, I found myself talking about my run-in with the East End Executioners.

"What?!"

Denice gasped, Gloria looking as shocked as her.  Both Ben and Trevor looked horrified and intrigued, my eyes on my hands as I thought about how to explain where I was when I ran into them.  I couldn't flat out tell them about staying at the Red Rum Inn or my father kicking me out, especially since they would all offer me a place to stay with them.  But I knew none of their parents would approve, so I brushed the thoughts off, coming up with pieces of the story as I went.

"Yeah.  I was taking a walk because I was angry at my dad and they were on my road.  One of them even touched my arm and asked where I was going, but I ignored them."

"You ignored an East End Executioner?" Ben questioned, appearing stunned.  "How are you still alive?"

"I don't know, honestly.  Obviously because of my great looks," I laughed, flicking my hair over my shoulder jokingly.  "They were clearly drooling.  Some even kissed my feet."

Everyone was laughing now, and I smiled, saying I was joking about the end part.  But Ben did have a good point.  The fact that I had ignored a gang member—during the first run in—and was still alive was completely shocking.  We continued playing a board game, asking each other questions and eating snacks.  I was glad that I had such great friends but felt bad for lying to all of them.  Even when they asked to walk or drive me home, I declined, explaining that I wanted to walk home alone, and have some time to myself.  They all thought it was fine but asked me to at least message them when I got home.

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The past couple of days I hadn't run into any East End Executioners.  I didn't mind either, it was simply weird to not see them.  The way they had been hanging out previously made it look like the Red Rum Inn was a place they practically resided but clearly it wasn't.  After a few minutes of letting my mind wander, I focused on the test in front of me.  Even after studying for a couple of hours last night, I was lost on the material and this test certainly wasn't going well.  Thankfully the backside made some sense, so I was sure I got at least a sixty.  That wasn't how I usually did on tests at all, but I knew it was because I had a lot on my mind.  The whole issue with my father, the fact that I was now running around trying to work more, all while trying to keep up with the basic things like school and my social life.

Turning my test in when the bell rang, I headed to lunch, meeting up with Denice.  She grinned at me, going into a story about how much she loved Mr. Worther's class as we stood in line for lunch.  It was our English teacher and I had to agree that his class was always one of the best parts of my day.  Apparently we were playing some game that went along with the book we were reading in his class, and I thought it sounded exciting.

Sitting down at the table, I stole food from Ben, the boy scoffing and staring at me as if I had just stolen a hundred dollars from him.  It was always funny how much food meant to him, and I grinned, eating the couple of tater tots I had taken.  We started discussing plans for after school, but I felt bad, knowing I wasn't going to be able to hang out because I had work.

"But you don't work on Tuesdays."

"I'm taking more shifts.  College is going to be expensive."

Denice looked confused.  "V, you have straight A's, though.  And didn't you say you got a full ride somewhere already?"

I shrugged, forgetting that I had told Denice about my full scholarship to one of the better colleges in California.  Explaining that I did need a car and spending cash for college, they then appeared to believe me.

"So, we'll have to make plans soon, though," Denice nodded, looking to Ben.  "Right?"

"Don't ask me.  Trevor and I just follow whatever you, V, and Gloria want to do."

Rolling our eyes, I did think it was amusing that the boys never knew what to do, or how to make plans for that matter.  Of course, it had sucked that we didn't have the same lunch as Trevor and Gloria, but the three of us still usually managed to make plans that our other two friends would like.  The only problem was that I was losing friendship time due to my current living situation.  Ignoring the thought, we continued talking about some sort of Halloween party someone was throwing at the end of the month, Ben said he knew the guy throwing the party.  Nodding, Denice and I said it sounded fun, and I told Ben I would ask my boss for the day off.

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This was the first time I had worked a six-hour shift at Johnny's Records.  Considering the shop opened around the sixties, the name certainly made sense.  And with the way the world was today—all the instant media and music at people's fingertips—we still did pretty good business.  I knew it had to do with people wanting physical music, and a lot of kids or young adults came in looking at records or CD products.

It was late, the roads dark as I pulled my jacket closer to my body.  The October air was freezing tonight.  Normally, it wouldn't be that bad but there was a breeze tonight that made it seem ten degrees cooler than usual.  Turning down the street, I noticed further past the Red Rum Inn that there was now a blue neon sign, but I couldn't read it from here.  As I got closer to the Inn, I realized it said BAR, but I tried not to think about it too much.  Of course, I had known there was a bar down the street, but they had clearly gotten a new sign.  Rolling my eyes, I stopped in my tracks when I saw East End Executioners entering the Inn.

Glancing at my phone, I saw it was a little past ten, but it still didn't make sense as to why they were going into the place.  Debating whether or not to turn around, I decided against it, uncertain as to where I was going to go if I did decide to leave.  Pulling the glass door open, Marla, the woman who worked at the front desk, was sitting down, reading some sort of gossip magazine to pass the time I assumed.  Smiling to myself, the expression quickly left when I saw the guy from my first night here.  He was standing on one side of a door, another guy on the opposite side.  They were letting people into a room, but to me, it looked dark, and I didn't even know where the place lead.

Before I could gaze too long though, I made eye contact with the curly-haired gang member, my body stiffening for a mere second.  Turning away, I headed toward the stairs, hoping to get away without confrontation.  The minute I felt a hand on my elbow, I knew I was not as lucky as I had hoped.  Slowly looking at the boy, he appeared curious.  It was a strange expression and I wasn't sure I understood why he was looking at me as if I was some sort of science experiment.

Sooner than later, the expression was gone but he didn't let go of my arm.  It was like he thought I would run off the minute he lost contact—not that he was wrong about that.  Taking a deep breath, I made eye contact with him, standing up slightly straighter.  I wanted to not feel so small next to him, my heart already racing in my chest.  He wasn't as scary as I had originally thought, but then again, he wasn't really expressing any emotion.  He was just kind of ... dull?

"What are your plans for this evening?" Curly asked.

I stared at him, unsure of how to react to his question.  What did he think I was going to say to him? That I would have nothing and want to hang out with him? Clearly that wasn't going to happen.  It seemed I was having an inner monologue with myself and I couldn't exactly speak what I was thinking.  I knew it had to be censored, not wishing to make him angry.  But before I could tell my brain what to say, my lips were already moving.

"Nothing.  But I know there is nothing on my schedule that has anything to do with you."

He looked completely shocked by my words, letting go of my arm.  I was honestly just as stunned as he was, if not more so.  Standing there stiff, I noticed the boy in front of me looked displeased with what I had just said to him.  At this point, I felt my body shaking and I was waiting for him to pull out a weapon to start assaulting me—more than likely the knife he had the other night.  That, or I was waiting for him to call his gang buddies over here to do it for him.  His face was still stuck in the same position, though he regained his composure before speaking again.

"You should join us in the basement."

Was Curly serious right now? Was I wearing some sort of gang magnet that I didn't know I owned? If he thought for one second that I was dumb enough to join him in the basement, he was entirely wrong.  There was no way that I would willingly want to join whatever him and his dangerous friends were doing.  Not only was the idea revolting, but it was absolutely insane.  I was stunned, really.

"I'm sorry.  I don't hang out with criminals."

He stared at me for a long minute.  Something about him gave me the absolute creeps, but I wasn't sure what it was.  Maybe it was the simple fact that he belonged to the East End Executioners, but I wasn't entirely positive.  Not to mention that I really didn't have any interest in hanging out with him in the first place.  Before I could walk away, he began speaking once more.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a shitty place like this?"

"I don't believe that is any of your business."

"You're staying on our territory.  I like to know what people are doing here."

I narrowed my eyes, uncertain as to how old he was now.  The way he spoke made him sound older than he looked, but I was certain he couldn't have been much older than me.  We continued to look at one another and I had this feeling he wouldn't leave me alone until I gave him an answer.  Glancing down at my hands, I went to say something but he asked me another question.

"Who hurt you?" he asked.

"Who hurt me? That's kind of a vague question, don't you think? Are you talking about someone I loved, because I can assure you I have not had my heart broken."

He smirked then.  It was a cocky one, and I wondered what was going through his mind right now.  Maybe he was thinking about the girls he had broken but I pushed that out of my own head.  It was unnecessary and I didn't understand why I had even said what I did to him.  Sure, it was true that I had never had my heart broken—really because I hadn't dated anyone—but I still wasn't certain what he had originally been asking.  Suddenly Curly's thumb was running over the still healing scab and bruised skin on my eyebrow, my body tensing up as he pulled back.

"I'll ask you again.  Who hurt you?" he questioned.

"A person."

"Oh, wow.  How descriptive."

"Yep."

He rolled his eyes, and I saw this sudden shift in him.  His eyes were harsher, and I watched as he became impatient with me.  I was fine with being defiant against him because he didn't really scare me, but now he did.  It was like our last run in, where I had stood up for myself and then began to comply.  Simply the demeanor he gave off told me not to push him anymore.

"My father," I answered when he decided to press a little more on the scab.

He nodded, telling me to behave on his territory before turning around, heading for the room he had been guarding.  The guy that had also been guarding the door followed, shutting the door behind him.  Honestly, I felt violated in some weird way but wasn't sure why.  He hadn't been very intrusive, but he had pressed on the cut I had and maybe that was why.  I mean, I didn't really plan on admitting what my father had done, especially since I always lied to my friends about stuff like that.  Heading upstairs to my room, I locked the door behind me and got ready for bed, hoping it would be a while until I saw any East End Executioners.

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For anyone wondering, I changed Jake's name to Ben but I'm sure you figured that out hehe

Lots of love,

Brooke