Stuck With the Miscreants

Pushing All My Luck, It Ain't Going My Way

 Roaring laughter filled the inner walls of the alleyway, echoing against each other, showing your true irritation in the situation you were in right now.

"You guys got beat up by a tyke?" Vinnie hollered, even pointing at you while laughing, even swaying from side to side because she was laughing too hard.

"Well, not really," you rubbed your shoulder awkwardly, "I kinda beat Tre up by myself..." You drifted off, fiddling with your thumbs.

"That's even funnier!" Vinnie exclaimed, and managed to laugh even louder, knee-slapping' and everything.

"I didn't do it on purpose, I just missed!" You wavered your hands in front of yourself, you didn't want to be accused of whacking that uptight loser on purpose no matter how 'funny' it sounded.

Her laughing faded into calm chuckling as she grasped her chest for air, "That's great and all, but ya got a job to do." Your brows shot up at her words, glancing from side to side in confusion.

"A job?!" You questioned, just to make sure you heard her right, a small spark of hope that you didn't hear what you just heard.

"Yeah y'know, you owe me one." Oh, that's right, you recalled her act of true hospitality and gratitude. Letting you sleep in an alleyway. You fumbled with your words before she cut your thought off.

"Don't worry, won't be too hard," She rolled her eyes at you, "you can get situated with the others back there, we leavin' in a few." She threw her thumb backwards towards the two young boys, placed between a dumpster and a few wooden boxes in the alleyway.

You didn't have anything better to do, so you forcibly brought yourself over there, already smelling the dreaded cigarette smoke.

"So do you think rocks are just baby boulders or maybe, pebbles are baby rocks?"

"Fuck, Skipp, I dunno, why don't you just go ask Vinnie?" Stone sat himself on the dirty dumpster cover inhaling and exhaling smoke casually as he gripped his brow, having to deal with Skipp pestering him once again.

"But, Vinnie says my questions are rhetorical!" Skipp whined, gripping the side of the dumpsters lid, looking at Stone with big, sad puppy-dog eyes.

That's when you stepped into the scene, hot garbage mixed with cigarette smoke circled your form like it was a beast, stalking and ready to kill. You gazed at the teenagers, noticing how they only stopped talking when you arrived, blinking at you. Before you knew it you were blasted in the face with the hot cigarette smoke in particular. You outwardly cough, making your hand into a fist to strike your chest, forcing any inhaled smoke out of your lungs.

"You okay there?" Skipp's kind, yet giggling voice rang out in your ears like a melody.

"You do that shit on purpose?" You spat out with a cracked voice, directed toward the smoker himself. Stone had his legs intertwined with each other glaring down at you from the position of the dumpster against the wall.

"Nah, just my way of telling you to sod off." Stone shrugged at you, showing you a quick flash of a grin before it faltered to blow more smoke in your face.

You audibly wheezed out again, gripping your nose between your index and thumb, before speaking up, "Well it's definitely working, that shits nasty!" You swiped your hand in front of your face trying to get the smoke out from under your nose.