© Jojo B 2018

All rights including those in copyright in the content of this story are owned by Jojo B. It's Illegal to steal and/or copy.

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Snakes and Splinters

2

"Thanks for picking me up Walter," Hayley said as she jumped into the backseat of Walter's ride.

"No problem," he smiled at her through his rear view mirror.

Walter had gotten his license and even though I too had a license now, I didn't have a car nor did I want one yet. Walter liked driving me to art school when he was free certain mornings and afternoons. His car was dark and gorgeous, quite like him.

"Did you do your sketches for the Christmas holiday?" I turned around in the passenger seat to look at her.

"I did one," she grinned widely.

I laughed, "One? Hayley. They wanted at least ten."

"I know, I know. I was going to do them all last night, but I got busy," she said with a smirk.

"Busy doing what?" I arched a brow at her. "Eli was at home with us yesterday."

"You thought."

I widened my eyes and Walter started to chuckle.

"Eli's sneaky like that," he said as he passed a green light.

"He snuck out to see you?" I asked Hayley who was still smirking.

"Well I wouldn't call it sneaking out on his part," she replied. "He doesn't have a curfew, that's what he told me anyway. I was the one who had to sneak out to see him."

"You're brave," I laughed lightly.

"I know," she smiled. "My parents would kill me if they knew. They've already told me to stop seeing Eli."

"Really?" Walter murmured in surprise.

"Yeah," Hayley sighed and leaned the side of her dark haired head on the window.

I already knew of course. Hayley had called me almost in tears the night that she and Eli had been caught making out in her room. They'd been fully dressed, thank God, but after Hayley's parents had politely sent Eli out of their house, they'd proceeded to give her an hour long lecture. Long story short, Eli was 'too rough looking' for her and they wanted her to stop seeing the boy, rumoured a gang member, as soon as possible. That had been in December of last year and Hayley and Eli had been sneaking around ever since.

"Eli never said anything about that," Walter said as he quickly accelerated to avoid a red light.

I saw Hayley smile faintly through the rear view mirror, "Probably because it makes no difference to him."

I grinned, "That's pretty romantic of him."

Walter was about to pretend to gag but he stopped himself, knowing Hayley wouldn't appreciate that. She loved his brother openly, something that Walter (and Eli too) had difficulty showing. The two of them were still quite argumentative, but when it came to the important things, like gang matters, they were as close as all of their other brothers were.

We arrived at art school and Hayley thanked Walter again before getting out of his car. She walked up the stone steps and stood close to the main doors where other students were either smoking or making their way in and out of the building.

"Have fun at training today," I turned and said to Walter.

He smiled at me and caressed my cheek, "Thanks, you too at Uni."

I closed the gap between us and gave him a gentle kiss.

"I'll see you in the evening," he said to me.

I nodded, already knowing each of our plans for the day. Walter kissed my forehead one last time before I got out of the car and joined Hayley at the entrance to the London School of Arts where she was waiting for me.

On arriving to our workshop, where we were the last in our group to show up, Hayley and I got started with our projects. I was working on making prints out of various materials that I would then use to make items of clothing and accessories. It was a meticulous project and took a lot of time, but I loved it. My supervisors had said that what I'd done so far was very good.

The course itself was three years long and during the first year, we were taught about many of the areas in the Textiles industry including weaving, printing, knitting and embroidery. There was the practical side of things where we would bring our designs to life, and then there was the theoretical side where we studied things like the social and cultural aspects to textile design. As if I even knew what that meant. I naturally preferred the practical side more because I could spend hours being creative and as for the theory part, I didn't much enjoy having to give presentations on my research in front of the group. I still managed it though, better than I would have in the past when I was a lot quieter.

"Hey Coral," Hayley nudged my elbow as we sat side by side at one of the tables, working on our drawings. "Is she new?"

I followed her gaze to a girl with long and dark curly hair. She was sitting on another large table, completely focused on painting. I didn't recognise her at all.

"I think so," I replied. "She's really pretty."

"Yeah," Hayley nodded in agreement. "I wonder why none of the guys have tried to chat her up."

I chuckled, "Maybe because barely any boys take this course?"

Hayley twisted her red lips to the side, "There are a few boys."

"Gay boys."

"Well...yeah," she grinned. "But still, if I was a straight guy, I'd be on her like white on rice."

"Thanks for that Hayley," I rolled my eyes. "She must be a transfer student if she's joined just after the Christmas holiday."

"True," Hayley nodded. "She looks lonely, do you want to go and talk to her?"

"I don't want to interrupt her," I shook my head.

That wasn't the only reason. Like most other pretty (soon to be popular) girls, the new girl could be a bit fake or bitchy and I would rather have avoided that. That being said, Hayley, as a pretty girl herself, wasn't like that at all. So I wouldn't completely rule out the possibility that the new girl was a genuinely nice person like Hayley was.

Time passed quickly and some of the teachers had come round to see how we'd gotten on with our project during the holiday. I'd had to hold back laughter when listening to Hayley stutter through her excuses as to why she hadn't completed her work for the break. She'd thought she'd been so badass earlier when declaring she'd only done one sketch. It had gotten so painful to watch in the end that I'd had to go and get some more watercolour pencils just so I wouldn't burst out laughing in front of the teacher.

Whilst gathering some more shades of red and orange, I overheard a couple of the guys in the workshop talking in low voices about the new girl. They didn't know her name either, but they certainly thought she was very attractive. I guessed there were more straight guys taking Textile Design than I'd thought, I smiled to myself.

By 3pm Hayley and I were finished for the day and we walked down the busy central London streets whilst the January wind blew through at us, making me tighten my scarf around my neck.

"What are your plans for the rest of today?" Hayley asked me as we walked briskly to the tube station.

"I'm going to see Ario and some of the guys," I said to her.

Hayley smiled, "How's your Spanish coming along?"

"Pretty poor," I admitted with a sheepish smile. "I basically only know insults. That's all the boys are good at teaching me, except for Carlos and sometimes Ario and Paulo when they're in the mood for real teaching."

Hayley laughed, "Typical of teenage boys."

"Does nineteen still count as a teenager?" I asked her as we descended the steps down to the London Underground.

"Well, kind of," she shrugged tucking her bag underneath her arm as we made our way down. "I forgot that you're basically a year older than me even though we're in the same year at Uni."

"Yeah," I smiled. "What are you doing for the rest of the day?"

"My sketches. What else?" Hayley said with a sheepish smile that had me cracking up again.

The two of us got onto the packed tube and after several stops we were in the part of the city that we called home. I spotted Ario Santiago waiting for me outside the station with a glum look on his face which automatically made a smile grow on my own face. I just found that expression of his so funny.

"Hola," he smiled when he saw me coming.

"Hola to you too," I replied with a grin. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, not long," Ario shook his head and then nodded politely at Hayley who sent him a little smile back.

The two didn't really talk much and that was probably because of the stuff that had happened in the past. Also not to mention, Eli hated Ario just as much as he hated the rest of the Santiagos, and vice versa. I was just glad Hayley and Ario were civil with each other.

"I'll see you later Coral," Hayley gave me a hug.

"Later," I smiled back before she started making her way home.

"Are you hungry?" my cousin asked me as we walked through the crowded streets of the centre of our borough.

"Not really," I answered. "Why? Are you?"

"Nah," he shook his head, pushing his hands deep into his pockets and walking with his blue eyed gaze low. "Just checking. We can eat dinner at home."

"Yeah," I agreed and then noticed the nice looking watch on his wrist. "I like your watch. Is it new?"

Ario smirked, "You could say that."

I looked at him warily, "What do you mean?"

"I took it from someone who didn't need it much anymore," Ario shrugged. "He was quite cooperative. I didn't even need to get a knife out."

"Ario," I hissed at him as people passed by us. "You can't do that!"

"He'll keep his mouth shut," Ario only said. "Otherwise the boys and I will pay him another visit."

I shook my head at him. By he and 'the boys' Ario meant his brothers Miguel and Manuel and his older cousin Diego. Carlos and Paulo rarely ever did their things like that when it came to normal people who weren't involved in crime at all. Well I wasn't completely sure about Carlos as he never spoke about gang matters with me, but as for sixteen year old Paulo, I could say that he wasn't one for terrorising civilians...only if his brothers pressured him.

"You pissed at me?" Ario poked my side through my coat.

"Pretty much," I answered. "You shouldn't do things like that to people. You have money, you could buy a watch like that yourself."

Ario sighed, probably not expecting me to have taken it all so seriously.

"We caught him harassing a girl and Diego of all people was the most angered by it," Ario mumbled an explanation. "So we figured we'd teach him a lesson. We beat him up a little and took some of the stuff he'd already stolen from other people. There was no way a low life like that could afford such an expensive watch. We were the heroes, Coral."

I thought about it with a little smile on my face when he called themselves heroes, "Well I guess in a way, yeah."

Ario glanced down at me with his bright blue eyes. Satisfied that I wasn't as annoyed at him anymore, he smiled.

"So how do you feel about arepas for dinner?" he asked me in his low tone.

"Oh like the sandwich things?" I widened my eyes and grinned. "I love them."

"Yeah. The sandwich things," Ario grinned. "Paulo is the best at making the dough mixture but I can do the filling."

"That sounds good to me," I replied.

"Say that in Spanish," he said.

"Um..." I had to think about it. "Me parece bueno."

"Close," he said with a half smile. "It's me parece bien."

"Thanks," I murmured.

"You're getting there," he said with encouragement.

"It's been over a year," I said with a sarcastic tone.

"Well we haven't been teaching you consistently," he admitted.

"You mean, you haven't," I corrected him with a grin. "Carlos does whenever he has the time."

Ario rolled his eyes, "Well...you know what I mean."

"You've been busy with other things?" I teased him. "Like what?"

Ario had already quit school when he was only sixteen, like Landon had.

"Football," Ario said. "You already know that."

"Yeah but I didn't think you were on a team or anything," I replied. "I thought you were just playing friendly matches like once a week."

"Ouch," Ario put a hand to the left side of his chest. "Your little faith in me hurts, hermana. I've actually joined the local club so I'm training a lot. They might put me on the team soon."

"That's great," I laughed. "Do you enjoy it a lot then?"

"Yeah," Ario nodded. "I do. You should come and watch another match when I make it. A real one against an actual team this time, not just one of our inside matches."

"Me parece bien," I said. "I'll be sure to come if I can."

Ario laughed at my basic Spanish and ruffled my hair, "That was a pretty good accent."

"Then why did you laugh?" I was grinning at him.

He unsuccessfully tried to stop smiling so widely, "Nothing."

"Say it," I gripped his sleeve with a challenging smile, stopping him from running away from me like he usually did when he was caught in situations like this one.

"You should make a 'th' sound for the 'c' in parece," Ario explained.

"Don't be a baby," he chuckled at me when I sighed. "Anyways, how was art school?"

We spent the rest of the journey deep into East side territory talking about my classes and my design ideas. My current project was inspired by the Venezuelan culture. There was a lot of red and other bright colours. It was Paulo who'd told me so much about it even though he was only three years old when he left his home. As a child, Paulo had asked so many questions about their country of origin and his older brothers and cousins had told him all the traditional myths and childhood stories over and over. The boys had never even been back since they'd left their country thirteen years ago.

The house was quiet when Ario and I got there.

"Is Paulo even home?" I asked Ario who was scratching his brown hair as he walked into the kitchen.

"School finished a while back," Ario checked his watch. "He's probably in his room."

He went and shouted Paulo's name up the stairs and after a pause Paulo's voice came back.

"Shut up Ario, Carlos is sleeping," he responded in Spanish.

"What are you doing?" Ario asked him in the same tongue.

"Why?" I could hear the frown in Paulo's voice.

"I'm here," I joined Ario by the foot of the stairs with a grin. "And we were wondering if you could make the dough for the arepas for us?"

Paulo looked like he'd been the middle of getting dressed and stood at the top of the stairs with drying dark hair and a topless frame. He was skinner than even Eli. He'd been glaring at his brother, but smiled when he saw me.

"I'll be five minutes," Paulo switched to English.

Ario rolled his eyes after Paulo had disappeared again, "If I had asked, he would have told me to piss off and do it myself."

"He clearly likes me more than you," I smirked at my cousin.

"Probably just because you're a girl," Ario replied. "Don't flatter yourself."

I dug my elbow into Ario's stomach hard and walked past him into kitchen. He started getting out the ingredients for the filling of the arepas and I had to admit that the Santiagos definitely did more cooking than the Simpsons. Their mothers must have taught them before they'd left the unrest in Venezuela for England with my father who was now dead.

"There aren't many girls in the family," Ario murmured as he started cutting pieces of fresh chicken from the fridge.

I grabbed another knife and started to help him at the counter.

"Carlos and Diego have another sister don't they?" I said. "My half-sister."

"Yeah," Ario nodded. "She's way older than us. Still lives in Venezuela with her husband and kids."

"How old is she?"

Ario had to think about it, "Twenty nine, I think."

"Carlos is twenty four," I said. "She's not that old."

"Yeah, but she's ten years older than us," Ario said with a smile. "That's old to me. And she also has a different mother to Carlos and Diego, so she's their half-sister too."

"How come she didn't come to England with you guys when you left?" I asked quietly.

"She was sixteen and already betrothed," Ario answered. "Couldn't leave her husband-to-be. I don't think Pedro would have taken her anyway. I'm sure he planned to form some sort of gang from the very beginning and probably didn't want a girl involved."

"But you were just kids," I frowned.

"That meant nothing to him," Ario mumbled and then he gave me a quick glance. "Sorry."

"Don't be," I said quickly. "I was the one who brought him up."

I should have seen that being a child had meant nothing to Pedro, my father. The things he had done to me, he shouldn't have done to anyone, let alone a little girl. The Santiago boys probably had it tough with him too, during the part of their childhood they spent in London together.

"Do we even have cornmeal?" Paulo asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"Yeah," Ario answered. "In the cupboard."

They were speaking in English because of me and I was grateful. My Spanish listening was better than my speaking, but that was only if they spoke slowly enough. Either way, it was generally easier for all of us, when I was around, to speak in English...which was why I'd barely learnt any Spanish so far.

Paulo started the dough with some water in a mixing bowl. He added a bit of salt and then started gradually adding the cornmeal, mixing it with his hand.

"I don't know why you claim you can't do this Ario," Paulo said as he stirred and mixed the forming dough with his hand. "It's so simple."

"I never get the consistency right," Ario replied, heating up a pan to cook the chicken that we'd been cutting.

"Don't make it too dry or too wet," Paulo smirked. "Simple."

"Thanks for that," Ario replied sarcastically.

As Ario cooked the chicken, I started cutting up the vegetables. I loved peppers. They were so colourful. I didn't use too many though because I knew Ario didn't like them much. He tolerated them because of my love for them.

"How has your day been?" Paulo asked me as he kept kneading in the bowl.

"It's been cool," I replied. "I was at university. Well art school."

"Same thing," Paulo shrugged with a smile.

"How was school for you?" I questioned him.

He sighed and rolled his brown eyes, "Boring as usual."

"Where are Miguel and Manuel by the way?" I realised that they weren't around.

"Football," Paulo answered. "Straight after school."

"Are they in the same club as you, Ario?" I asked.

"Yeah but they're in a different age group to me," Ario answered. "They're seventeen so they're in the under eighteens."

"I know they are seventeen," I smiled. "How could I forget the age of my dearest younger cousins?"

Ario and Paulo both grinned at me, knowing that the twins and I didn't really converse that much. They were a lot more civil towards me now, but I just guessed they weren't used to girls being around and weren't sure how to act with me. So, like Diego, they kept their distance most of the time.

Paulo soon finished the dough and he started rolling small balls and then flattening them out into circles before lightly frying them on both sides. The oven was already warming up and the arepas would cook in there for about ten minutes until they were finished.

"This smell reminds me of Mama's cooking," Paulo smiled sadly.

"How do you even remember?" Ario muttered, a frown starting to form on his face.

"I just do," Paulo shrugged, looking at the cooking food with a vacant expression.

Ario, Paulo, Miguel and Manuel's mother and father had both died when they were young. Their uncle, Pedro, had taken them all to England a year or so before. I didn't know the details of either of their parent's deaths, just that they had died sometime after the boys had left the country. The boys had told me that the crime rate in Venezuela had been increasing at the time, especially within the capital city they were living in. Carlos had told me that young men in particular were killed every single day in Caracas and nearly all of those deaths were linked to criminal gangs. That was why the parents of Ario, Miguel, Manuel and Paulo had wanted Pedro to take their boys to a safer place along with his own sons Carlos and Diego.

Carlos and Diego's mother was also dead. Again, I hadn't asked how she'd passed, but it had happened before they'd even come to England. So like me, my half-brothers had lost their mother during their early childhood.

I'd been told that Pedro had had a respectable job and had made trips to the UK several times before getting him and the boys' papers they needed for a more permanent stay. Pedro had, no doubt, also been involved in crime, but that side of him had been well hidden until his arrest in England when I was ten years old. After serving eight years for armed robbery and assault, he had been released and subsequently killed three days later.

Noise at the front door brought me out of my thoughts. It sounded like the twins. One of them was groaning and complaining. They were speaking in Spanish, but I picked up the 'Simpsons' and 'fight'. I had actually forgotten the two gangs had a fight organised tonight. Miguel was in the middle of grumbling about the 'clones' in particular when the two of them walked into the kitchen and saw me.

"Oh," Miguel blinked a few times, switching to English. "I didn't know you were here."

"You making arepas?" Manuel asked through gritted teeth, gripping his shoulder.

"Yep," I replied. "What happened to your arm?"

"Football," Manuel grunted and sat down carefully at the dining room table.

"Can you shred the chicken?" Ario asked me, glancing at his brother in concern.

"Sure," I replied and started tearing apart the cooked chicken with a knife and fork.

"Thanks," he murmured before walking over to Manuel. "Take your top off."

"It's not that easy," Manuel said in a pain filled voice.

"Did you get tackled?" Paulo asked.

"Yeah," Manuel replied and then looked at his twin flatly. "By him."

Miguel smirked a little, "I got a bit competitive. They don't put us on the same team because it's hard for them to tell us apart."

Although the twins were wearing different coloured football shirts, they still were identical looking, especially if they were running around a pitch.

Ario chuckled, "Well I'm guessing if it were anyone else who tackled you that bad, you'd be suspended from the club after fighting them."

Manuel rolled his eyes, "True."

"But they're too scared to tackle us properly," Miguel added with another smirk.

Ario half smiled as he helped Manuel slowly take off his blue football shirt. He had a look at Manuel's shoulder whilst Paulo and I finished off the meal. We cut the arepas in half and put in shredded chicken, cooked vegetables and a bit of cheese. It was delicious.

I had just finished my first one when Diego entered the house. He greeted me politely when he saw me and I sent him a small smile. Since I'd first met him, I could say that he had changed. He wasn't the rowdy, disrespectful and degrading man that he had shown himself to be, over a year ago. Diego was quiet around me now, still keeping his distance and never allowing the two of us to be left alone in a room together. I appreciated his thoughtfulness. I'm sure Carlos had told him how our father had been like with me when I was young, and that too had made Diego even more careful when I was around. It seemed it wasn't just me that he had changed towards. Hearing Ario's words earlier today, about the guy they'd seen harassing a girl and had then beaten up, made me think that Diego had seen his past self. And that had made him angry. Hopefully he no longer treated any girl the way he had initially treated me.

"What happened to you?" Diego asked Manuel in English, who was alternating between rubbing his shoulder and eating his arepa.

"Miguel messed my shoulder up in football," Manuel looked at his brother who smiled innocently back at him.

"Are you gonna be able to fight with that tonight?" Diego frowned.

"That's what I was saying," Ario spoke. "I don't think he should, but we need him or we'll be two people less than the Snakes. They already have seven and we're just six."

One thing about hanging out with the enemies of the gang that I belonged to, was that they didn't entirely hold back on expressing their dislike for the Simpsons. They didn't discuss anything about their own gang either and I didn't mind that they might have not completely trusted me. What I'd done in the past warranted that cautiousness. Besides, I'd honestly rather know as little as possible just for my own sanity rather than safety.

"Hola Coral," Carlos' voice came from the doorway.

"Buenos noches," I replied, knowing that he wasn't going to speak any English until he absolutely had to.

Carlos had had a long rest, I could tell by how messy his hair was and how it was actually quite close to Diego's own unkempt hair. Carlos took one of the arepas on the table and started eating. He murmured praise in Spanish and Ario and Paulo only passed it onto me. Carlos sat opposite me at the table and started speaking to me in his deep voice. I simply sat and stared blankly at him, having absolutely no idea what he was saying. He clearly thought I was a pro, but his accent was so authentic and he spoke too fast for me to comprehend. I just looked at his clean cut cheekbones, wondering why I hadn't inherited such traits. Although, I figured his cheekbones definitely came from his mother, because he looked nothing like Pedro at all. Diego, a little bit, but not Carlos. His mouth was still moving and he occasionally moved his thick eyebrows, maybe expecting me to say something in return.

"Oh I got that last part," I suddenly replied brightly, straightening up in my seat in excitement.

"Yeah, that's because I was speaking English," Carlos said in a dry voice.

"Oh," I bit my bottom lip and the others literally cracked up laughing, even Diego.

"You've got a long way to go," Carlos gave me a tired smile.

"I know," I mirrored his smile. "Why are you so sleepy?"

"Been working a lot," he replied vaguely. "But I'm okay. How have you been, hermama?"

"Good," I replied and then proceeded to tell him how things were, whilst avoiding all talk about Walter and his brothers, which afterwards, wasn't that much. Mainly just art school and work, you couldn't mention the name of a Simpson in the Santiagos house. Not unless you were insulting them.

"Yo Paulo, you wanna fix us up another batch of arepas? That was good but there wasn't enough," Diego said lazily with a hand up his shirt and scratching his stomach.

"It was only meant for me, Ario and Coral," Paulo replied. "That's just too bad."

"So is that a no?" Diego arched a brow.

"Si puto," Paulo smiled widely, calling his cousin a male prostitute.

Diego stood up quickly and Paulo made a swift escape out of the kitchen. Diego chased after him, daring him to curse at him some more and I had to laugh. The Simpsons wouldn't believe how similar they and the Santiagos really were.

A while later, Ario and Paulo got ready to walk me home...well to West Side where Walter was to meet us, at the line that stood between neutral territory and Simpson ground.

"Hey Coral, do you want some chocolate?" Ario asked me, rifling though the sweets cupboard.

"Sure," I nodded.

"Oh," he came back with one small bar of Milkyway. "Well I thought we had more."

"It's fine," I replied. "Just give it to me."

Ario laughed in my face, "You're so funny."

He unwrapped the chocolate and put the whole thing in his mouth, leaving me to shake my head at him. If anything, the way Ario was with me, made me happy. It was how a brother and a sister were with each other and that's what I wanted. Yeah the two of us argued sometimes, but it wasn't often. It just made our bond real.

"Estúpido," I called Ario stupid as Paulo walked in.

"Was that supposed to hurt my feelings?" Ario said blankly, forcing me to hold back laughter, for he had that bored expression on his face again.

"That wasn't even mean, Coral," Paulo laughed. "You've gotta curse more if you really want to be effective."

"Yeah, I'll just stick with the nice-ish insults for now," I chuckled and Ario smiled too.

I said goodbye to Carlos, Diego and the twins, before the three of us left the house. It was even colder out, now that the sun was setting and it was getting dark. We walked through neutral turf where all the shops were, and then we continued further West until we came to the boundary between the two.

Walter and Gomez were standing there waiting for me. Both had their shoulders hunched up from the cold and the wind blew through Gomez's blond hair. Walter was wearing a hoodie underneath his black leather jacket, with the hood drawn over his head. Walter looked at Ario with a stern stare as we got closer. We came to a stop, the two pairs of brothers just a meter away from each other.

"You're late," Walter muttered, his irritation directed to Ario.

Ario broke off his scowl directed at Walter to check his watch before continuing to glare back at him.

"Four minutes late," Ario replied in a deep tone. "That's not an issue."

"I don't need you to tell me what is and what isn't an issue," Walter clenched his jaw.

No matter what they would have said to each other, an argument would have come out of it. That's just the way it was with Walter and Ario, but they had to compromise when I was there. Both respected that I wanted a relationship, and therefore some form of contact, with each one of them.

"It's okay," I held my hands up and then looked at Walter and Gomez apologetically. "Sorry we made you guys wait."

I could sense both Ario and Paulo rolling their eyes at that.

"Thanks for dinner," I turned and smiled at my cousins.

"No problem," Ario muttered, still annoyed.

"Anytime," Paulo replied.

"Let's go, Coral," Walter said to me.

"Hasta luego, chama," Ario said later to me after giving Walter a final look.

"Ciao," Paulo smiled and said bye.

"Ciao," I waved back at the two of them as they turned and started to walk away.

"You guys okay?" I asked Walter and Gomez as we headed in the opposite direction, homewards.

Gomez nodded, "School was fine. I came to give Walter company, even though he said he didn't want it."

"Yeah, because who wants to be around you?" Walter mumbled.

"Thanks," Gomez said flatly.

I laughed and looped my arm through Gomez's, "You're fun to be around."

"See," Gomez sent Walter a look. "At least Coral appreciates me."

Walter rolled his eyes as a great gust of wind blew at us.

"Damn," Gomez tensed his muscles.

"Walter, why didn't you bring the car?" I shivered, knowing that he preferred walking a lot of the time.

His hazel eyes filled with concern and he pulled me away from Gomez and put me underneath his arm, tucking me into the side of his chest.

"I didn't realise it would be so cold," he said to me. "Do you want me to call a taxi?"

"No," I cried. "Home is literally only fifteen minutes from here."

"We could run?" Gomez suggested with a jokey smile.

"Don't bother wearing yourself out before tonight," Walter muttered.

"A ten minute run isn't going to wear me out," Gomez replied.

"Well I've been training all day," Walter said. "I'm pretty tired."

"Maybe you should sit this one out?" I asked him, already knowing the answer.

"I can't," Walter replied. "I want to fight."

Too much training tired him before fighting and too much fighting weakened him before training. I figured his training was more important to Walter, and he also knew it wasn't ideal to fight so much, but he still chose to. It was a part of him, another way to let out his rage and with me being stuck in the middle, I couldn't really pick sides anymore. I could only hope that the two gangs didn't cause each other too much harm.

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Thoughts on the chapter?

Favourite Santiago and why?

J

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