For no particular reason, I had decided to take a walk. The air was chilly the way I liked it, but there was no breeze. It made the entire thing ten times better, and I usually cleared my head whenever I did decide to take a walk. Marla had waved to me as I walked out the door and I was surprised to find that there were no East End Executioners hanging out the way they had been previously. As I was walking, I heard noise echo off the buildings, my eyebrows pulling in. It took me a little bit to realize that the bar up ahead was probably the reason behind the sounds, which left me trying to ignore the clamor. The fact that it was probably a bunch of gang members hanging out caused me to feel a little uneasy, but I knew if I minded my own business there would be no reason to worry.

Continuing down a different street, I paused when I saw a group of people walking up to a house, all of them holding onto the right sides of their jackets. By the leather, it was clear to tell what they were a part of, but I had this feeling I wasn't going to want to stick around to watch what happened. He was there, the first in line. His usual beanie was on, curls peeking out the sides and an overly serious expression plastered on his face. Without much thought, I found myself crouching behind an overgrown bush, watching as he threw hand signals to a couple of guys behind him before he took a gun out, holding it in front of him as he knocked on the door.

Honestly, I knew I shouldn't watch. The very idea that they were called the East End Executioners—and were currently holding guns—told me enough about what their gang consisted of. Before I could see much of what happened, a hand was on my mouth, my body immediately freaking out as I wondered who had captured me.

"You need to get back now," a familiar voice whispered, and I was relieved to find out it was Marla. "I'm so glad I followed you. I didn't want you to get hurt and if anyone catches you watching them, you're dead."

Nodding quickly, she peeked out from behind the brush, grabbing my hand and pulling me to follow her. It was nice to know that Marla actually cared about me. Honestly, I just thought she was friends with the gang members, so I doubted she truly gave a damn about me. But here she was, worried about my safety for the evening. Following behind her, we walked past the bar, my body tensing up when I heard gunshots from down the street. Marla glared at me, but I knew it was more so because she was angry that I thought it was a good idea to sit and stare at them.

"So, why don't we chat over some bar food?"

"Oh, I'm only seventeen, I can't—"

"Sugar, I'm going to have someone bring it to us. Is that okay with you?"

I nodded.

"Great. You go back to the Inn, I'll order food."

"Okay."

Walking into the Inn lobby, I waited about ten minutes before Marla came strolling in. She explained to me that they were going to bring it over, my newfound friend walking with me outside. We sat on the pool deck, which once again, was far nicer than I had expected. The table we sat at was wooden and it looked clean. The chairs were a similar wood, and I watched as Marla sat in front of me, pulling her purse onto her lap and a pack of cigarettes out.

"Would you like one, sugar?"

I shook my head no. She took one out of the pack, grabbing her lighter from her purse. It took her seconds to light the end before she put the pack of cigarettes away, her lighter following not much later. I watched as she took a drag, blowing it out so it wouldn't hit me in the face.

"Tell me about yourself."

"What specifically do you want to know?"

"I don't know. Here, I'll give you a question. Why did you want to come stay at my hotel?"

Marla didn't look like she could be any older than thirty, so I was surprised she owned the place. Although she must have seen my face, because she was quick to explain that her family had owned it for decades and it was simply passed down to her. Nodding, I brushed my hair behind my ear, beginning to speak as she took another drag on her cigarette.

"My dad kicked me out, and this place isn't outrageously expensive to stay in."

Marla nodded. "Why'd he kick you out, sugar?"

"I accused him of being an alcoholic because he would leave me alone all the time at night to go drink. He has since I was thirteen."

She nodded again. "Well, he's stupid. You're sweet and he should have listened to your concerns. And I'm going to be completely honest with you, Veronica, I—"

"Call me V."

"Alright, V. I'm going to be completely honest with you. You look far too put together to live on East Side."

It was nice to hear that from a person who was still pretty much a stranger. Especially from a person that probably lived on East Side all of her life. Thanking her, I explained how I went to Arlington High and didn't want anyone to think I wasn't worth it, or eligible enough to attend. So, I wore nicer clothes and tried to play it off like nothing was ever wrong.

"Wow, Arlington High! I'm not surprised, you would not look nearly as pretty as you do if you went to East Side."

Almost instantly, my mind went back to the words that the curly-haired boy had said. The words that I still didn't really understand why he had said them to me.

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

Did he think I looked too pretty to live on the East Side? And now that Marla was saying something similar to his words, I almost wondered if people just assumed that I lived in Arlington because of the way I dressed and looked. Of course, my closest friends, like Denice, Gloria, Ben, and Trevor, all knew I didn't live in the nicer part of Arlington, but I was sure the rest of the school just assumed. Although I didn't understand why being pretty automatically meant I shouldn't live on East Side.

"Why do you say that? You're very pretty," I told her

She rolled her eyes, taking a drag on her cigarette again. "Sugar, this is the work of an hour of makeup regimens and nightly moisturizing. I look younger now than I did in high school."

"Oh. But, you're still pretty."

"Thanks, V."

I nodded, a person showing up beside our table. He held a bag and Marla quickly stood up, hugging him briefly. I was introduced to the man, shaking his hand and learning his name was Dave. He looked to be about the same age of Marla, the woman in front of me giving him money before he waved a goodbye, leaving the food on the table.

"I hope you like fries covered in cheese and sour cream."

Smiling, I said fries were best covered in both of those things. Marla laughed, agreeing with me. We started eating, the two of us quiet until I began to speak up.

"So, why do I not look like I go to East Side High, Marla?"

"Have you looked at yourself, V? And then looked at any woman that belongs to East End Executioners, or even girls your age over here? There is something about this side of town that just ages you."

It made sense. After all, this side of town was not nearly as beautiful as Arlington. And even if the entire East and West sides were Arlington, no one really looked at it like that. I didn't even know how long it had been called Arlington, when referring to the West Side, and East Side, when referring to the East of Arlington.

"What's East Side High like?"

"It's wild. You'd be fine there. I can tell by the way you hold yourself. A defiant girl who wouldn't crack under scrutiny. But most of the kids from Arlington would get murdered. You have to walk through metal detectors and get patted down each morning. Kids still manage to get guns or knives in somehow, though."

It was a shock to me. I never knew how rough East Side High was. Honestly, I just expected it to be filled with bad kids, not something that needed high-end security. Looking down at my hands, I glanced back at Marla, a smile on her face.

"What?"

"Nothing, sugar. I'm just glad I got the chance to befriend such a lovely young woman."

"Thanks."

She simply smiled again, standing up. I didn't notice until now, but her cigarette had clearly been done with. We grabbed the trash, heading inside. Marla went to her office and grabbed a water for me, wishing me a good night and telling me to not go on walks by myself at night. I listened, telling her I wouldn't before heading upstairs to my room. A part of me felt like there was more to Marla than I was seeing, but I didn't think it was anything bad. If anything, there was something that happened several years ago, but I ignored the feeling, locking my door behind me before plugging my phone in. I followed my nightly routine of getting ready for bed before actually going to sleep, hoping that all would continue to go somewhat well for me.