Why do you pick fights with other boys? It's the question Ryan has been running from all his life. The answer will shock you.
For as long as Ryan can remember, he's always wanted to be someone special. Now, a promising high school wrestler and a po...
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The digital clock on Ryan's Subaru dashboard showed the time was 11:54pm. The car was parked next to the skate park. Ryan, Dalton, and Luke sat inside the car. For several minutes after their arrival, no one spoke to each other. The intense anticipation of what was to come had everyone with different feelings.
Dalton wondered if any of his friends were aware of the gravity of their situation. He felt dumb for even coming with them. Maybe it's not too late to change their minds. "He pointed a knife to Cyrus's neck, Ryan." He waited for Ryan to say something. Knowing that Ryan was decently intelligent, he hoped his friend would admit that this plan was a bad idea and that they were going home. But all Ryan did was stare beyond his windshield with unblinking eyes.
Dalton looked to Luke who seemed more present, but also didn't respond. Am I the only sane person here? Dalton wondered. "I think maybe we should - you know..."
Ryan looked at his rearview mirror to address Dalton. "You know what?" He asked coldly.
"Maybe we should step away. Let the cops handle this."
"And then? What does that prove?" Ryan looked away, again staring out beyond his windshield. "I've let a lot of people walk over me..." He clenched the knuckle braces in his pocket tightly, imagining what it would do to Kenny's face. "Not anymore."
"We don't have anything to prove," Dalton rebuffed. "They're crack-heads." He put his hand on Luke's shoulder. "Luke, don't you think that - "
"Dalton," Luke interrupted. "I'm going to be honest with you. I'm pretty heated right now, so I'll take just about any reason to fuck someone up."
Dalton couldn't believe it. After seeing Cyrus nearly get his throat slit, he knew that this beef could only be settled through extreme intervention. If no one was going to use the cops, someone was going to have to do something serious or make the ultimate sacrifice. How do they not understand that? He wondered. "Am I the only one making any sense?"
"You want out?!" Ryan yelled, his body turning suddenly to face Dalton. "Then get out of the car! Run! But I'm not! Why?! Because I want to be a fucking man! If you don't, then just fucking go!"
Dalton had seen the look Ryan was giving him before. It was the same anger Dalton encountered at his party. Behind Ryan's eyes was anger; something hidden and untapped for years, silently brewing inside him, growing to a point where it could no longer be kept away. On his first contact with it, Dalton was fearful. He wanted to get away from it as fast as he could, pretend like it wasn't real. But staring at it now, Dalton realized it was all too absolute, only, at this moment, he didn't feel scared.
Dalton looked down, concealing his watery eyes from his friend's view. Softly, he said, "I don't want to see any of my friends get hurt. Not anymore than we've already been."
Dalton's words hit Ryan's heart first before quickly sinking to his gut. His friend was right. Coming out tonight was a bad idea. Ryan wondered why he even agreed to coming in the first place. Then his cell-phone vibrated. Cindy was calling him. Ryan looked down at the caller ID. If she doesn't want you, then who are you doing this for?
