I still got your back, you stupid bad-ass

Best Friends

Kenny's POV

"CHHRIIIISSSYY!!" I yelled childishly, jumping up and down his bed. "WAKEY-WAKEY!"

"...Go awaaay." he groaned, hiding under the covers.

I glared playfully at his back. I knew he could feel it. Then, without thinking, I sat on top of him. "Chris, we have to go." I pointed out. "You promised we could watch the match tonight!"

He didn't move, but mumbled incoherent things.

I ruffled his hair. "Pleeeeeeaaaase?"

I bent my head to meet his sleepy eyes. He groaned again. Not in protest, but in defeat.

He sat up, not bothering to warn me, so I fell off him and landed on the carpeted floor with a thud.

"Oh, sorry." he said, picking me up. "I barely noticed you there. You were so light." he teased.

I pouted.

"Come on, Let's get breakfast." Chris said, grabbing my hand and pulling me downstairs.

"Yay!" I cheered. He chuckled.

Mr. and Mrs. Kingston were having their usual coffee downstairs. They smiled when I came down with Chris. I liked his parents a lot. Even though they're usually work-a-holics, they always manage to support him in whatever he does.

"Morning mom and dad!" I chirped. They weren't so surprised by this. I was like a daughter to them.

"Hello, Kenny." Mrs. Kingston said. They were used to having me every day. Like I said--I was part daughter to them.

"Ooh! Pancakes!" I sat down beside Chris, who was rubbing his eyes sleepily. I ate and chatted with them like they were my own family.

Before we left, Mrs. Kingston reminded me to bring my mom, Jamie, and Gracie their breakfast. Mom can't leave the house since she's looking for a new job--via newspaper and phone. She has to stay home all day in case someone calls. My brother James is 19, he mostly "works" with me and helps take care of Gracie. Gracie is seven, but she had to cut down on school since we couldn't afford the private school tuition. Chris's parents offered to pay for it, but we refused. We couldn't rely on them all the time, we have to fend for ourselves.

That's why I'm an underground fighter, they pay a lot and I had to help my family somehow. My dad left us when I was twelve, Jamie was fourteen, and Gracie was only three, so she doesn't remember much. I've hated him, since he took all of our money. Same with my brother Jamie. Jamie even went after him.

Chris is my best friend. We met when I was twelve, and he was fifteen. I saw Chris fighting on the streets with a couple of guys. His cheek was scratched and bleeding, but he still kept fighting. It was unfair to me, since there were three guys and only one of him. It's unfair to take advantage of someone like that.

Actually, I've been learning how to fight ever since I was six. Jamie taught me. When my mother got pregnant with Gracie, my dad started beating her up. If Jamie hadn't informed the police, Gracie wouldn't even exist right now. He was sent to jail, but released when Gracie was born. He stayed with us for awhile, but he was always out and came home drinking. I'd gotten stronger then, and he learned not to cross my path.

Then, three years later, he left, taking every penny we had.

My hand clutched tighter to Chris's and he looked at me, concern showing in his face.

"What's wrong Cookie?"

I didn't answer him. After a few silent minutes, he understood. He squeezed my hand back comfortingly. "Don't think about him." he kissed my forehead. I looked up at him and smiled. Ever since I helped him, we were inseparable.