The Blame Game- a game in which you place the blame on anyone but yourself to escape punishment or consequences for actions played. Usually name blaming is done by the guilty party.
Ever had that person you just wanted to blame for all your proble...
"What is he doing here?" Marisa asks me as she stare at the boy at the other side of the restaurant. The reason that Luke is no longer a part of our group.
Flashback Freshman Year.
"It's no use." Holland said trying to hold Marisa back. She had finally broken out of his grip and curled up next to Luke when the police had arrived. Greggor was talking to one of the officers.
"One of the Avenue boys had a gun with him." Greggor explained, "I don't know what kind of gun it was. My parents don't let me handle guns. Actually none of our parents let us handle guns. But it was a small gun, small enough to hide in the waist band of his slacks." Greggor continued.
"Who's the girl?" The officer asked.
"That is Luke's girlfriend," I told the officer, "She won't be easily convinced he's gone, you might have to pull her away."
"And do you know who fired the gun?"
"Blond black leather jacket, black chrome helmet and a tattoo of a lion's paw on his neck." Kipling said. We'd all left Holland and his sister on their own, not wanting to intrude on their conversation, even though we all knew what it was going to be about. Holland was holding his sister tightly as the offices took Luke's body away. "The gun looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a while. He had the holster for it on instead of a belt."
"We'll notify you if we find him, keep your eyes out."
"There." Jonathan said pointing out the Avenue boys, "The blond in the black leather jacket and the brown combat boots. He's got a gun on his left side."
"He's armed." The officer that was talking to us said. Two officers took him and he put up a huge fight. He looked primal. The look in his eyes was both primal and evil.
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He was terrifying, that boy is the same one that killed my best friend, Marisa's boyfriend. We, Marisa and I, had always been close, best friends. It killed me that she would have to face this pretty much alone.
"Ivan," Marisa's sweet voice pulls me out of the memories of that fateful day my best friend died. "Are you okay?" Her soft worry filled voice touches me. I wrap my arm around her to reassure her.
Marisa-
Ivan does not answer my question, instead wraps me in his arms and walks me to our table, ignoring the boy watching from the corner of the restaurant.
"You're evading my questions." I tell him as we open our menus.
"Hello good evening, my name is Bradley Berk, I'll be taking care of you, can I start you off with appetizers and a drink?" A very happy young man walks up, and smiles at Ivan and myself.