Diving In

Chhhhhhhhh

Chhhhhh...hhh

Jacob shook his can of spray paint back and forth.

Chhh...hhh—

He shook it again.

Ch..hhh—

He shook it once more.

hhh—

With a tsk, he threw the empty can into the bushes behind him. "Man, my black's out."

Only a few meters behind Jake were several broken-down subway cars. They laid unevenly on rows of out-of-order railroad tracks. Fresh laid on his stomach on top of one of them, operating on the inside of his boombox.

He stopped twisting his screwdriver to glance down at Jake's backpack full of spray paint. Lazily, he called from above, "Use dark gray," before resuming his work.

Jake scowled. "Dude, they're not the same! The shades are so different, it'll totally stand out!"

"They look the same to me."

His response was an eye roll. Jake padded the pockets of his jacket, then his jeans. Empty.

"Aye, Fresh. Got any cash? I probably only need–" he counted with his hands, " –ten? I think they've got a discount today."

"What? For spray paint?"

Jake nodded.

Fresh's eyebrows rose as he sat up and looked to Jake. " Ten bucks for one can? What kind of discount is that?"

"No, it's like 4 bucks for one. I just need some extra for fries." He smiled cheekily. "Come on, I'll share with you!" Fresh deadpanned. He should've known.

"What? Don't look at me like that, we both know neither of us have eaten since breakfast."

He crossed his arms.

"Dude, I'd get it, but I'm broke. Come onnn," Jake whined.

Fresh stayed firm in his posture, but his stomach growled internally. He tried to hold himself back, to ignore the emptiness he felt in his belly, but he couldn't stop himself from fantasizing about how amazing fries would be at that moment. The warm saltiness, the beautiful balance of crispy crunchiness and soft mushiness all at the same time. How satisfied and full he would feel afterwards—

And just like that, he cracked. Before his mind caught up to what he was doing, he was already rummaging through his pockets for some cash.

He pulled out the only thing he had—a twenty.

Jake's eyes sparkled like diamonds knowing he had convinced him. Annoyance radiated from the top of the subway car. "I want my change back," Fresh said sternly with a glare, flicking the twenty to the ground where his friend stood.

Jake lunged to catch it, but missed. "Yeah, yeah," he replied with a grin, snatching the money up and getting his skateboard. As he began walking away, he heard, "And it better not be Don Don's! I want Five Fellas fries! Five Fellas!"

"Alright, alright!" Jake waved a hand. "I'm getting it! And save the saltiness for the fries, Fresh!"

Fresh rolled his eyes as he chuckled, laid back down on his stomach, and continued working on his boombox.

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