The Heathens

Chapter 1: Get The Hell Out of Here

Riley

A knock comes from the door. 

"Riley!" she yells.

 I immediately slam shut the old, broken laptop London's allowed me to use and race down the stairs to get the door. It only took one incident of not following her directions to learn my lesson. You know you deserve it.

 The door opens with a quiet squeak, revealing J. They just stand there like it's no big deal. Like I don't have every reason in the world to scream at them to leave and never come anywhere near me again. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, trying to keep quiet so that London doesn't hear me. 

They just stand there for a second, looking a little bit out of breath and worn out. Their usually well-tamed dark-blonde hair is a tangled mess covering their dark blue, nearly violet eyes. They almost look a little bit disturbed. I feel dumb for thinking that, though. J's the strongest, most resilient person I know. There's almost nothing in the world that could scar them. 

"Shut up for a second," they say, stepping closer so that we are face to face and I can smell their breath. Speaking of which, I don't think they have brushed their teeth today, which is a bad sign. Last-minute visits from J almost always mean something horrible happened. "I know that I was rude," they say, "and frankly, I still don't care. Cutting straight to the point if you want to live, you need to get in the car."

 I can't help but laugh at that. The fact that they still somehow think that I care about whether I live or die after what they saw is entirely incomprehensible to me. I really can't imagine how they could still care about my life after what they saw. They don't. No one does. "I'm done with you and your stupid savior complex. I want nothing to do with it," I say sternly, making my opinion clear for once in my life. 

"Riley, everybody wants to change the world," J states as if it's a known fact, and I'm crazy not to understand that immediately. "The difference between them and us is that we're willing to die trying."

 "What the actual hell, J?" I ask in disbelief. Not only have they decided to come to my house, uninvited again, but they also decided to drag me into another one of their moronic ideas to change the world. These plans are going to get us killed someday. I've just started to feel like I've been forgiven again, and now they're trying to take that all away from me again.

 J takes a long, deep breath. I can see the anger pulse through them. "Riley, I swear to god get in the damn car, or I'm going to—"

 "What? You're going to what? Kill me?" I wait for their answer. They don't have one, of course. They just stare at me. "Oh, J. You know you can be so hypocritical sometimes, right?"

 "What you just said, that was hypocritical," J says with a frustrated sigh. Then their face softens. "Look, just tell London that you won't see her for a little while. Don't tell her why and pray that she's safe."

 My heart sinks. They must have done something incredibly twisted for it even to affect London. London made it clear that she hates all of my friends and wishes I would just stop associating with J and the rest of the group. While I love London with all my heart—she's the only person who's ever cared about me, after all—I just couldn't leave them. J and the team have been my friends since I can remember. In middle school, they were the only reason I ever even went to school. I've known them since I was nine. They were the first real friends I made after my parents' death.

 "Damn," I say, forcing a laugh to hide the fear. "You must have really screwed up thistime."

 They don't laugh. Instead, they sigh. They're tired from my nonsense. "It wasn't me," they say, their tone the slightest bit defensive. "Just—come armed. This is that kind of trip."