Fly High | ✅

25 | Foul fowl

◈A D R I A N◈

Number brings respect. Number brings comfort.

These words were what I've learnt ever since I joined the pack.

Like dripping dish soap on coloured milk, people gave us a wide berth when we walked--no, when we prowled together.

Maybe it was respect, maybe it was fear. Or maybe they just wanted to avoid Zax and Thomas as they whizzed down the streets on their skateboards.

Whatever it was, I wasn't alone anymore and the feeling was as addictive as catnip.

School was long forgotten ever since I became part of the group. Well, I wasn't a model student anyway. A few absences wouldn't hurt.

We were out in the streets looking for grubs after an exhaustive round of parkour as they jumped and cartwheeled from the railings to park benches while I stood aside feeling inadequate.

Damon was walking upfront with an arm wrapped around the waist of his 'hot wings', Jenna. Those were the exact words he used when he introduced her while entangled in a passionate kiss.

Jenna lived up to her nickname being as sticky as the glazing. Her hands were constantly all over Damon's body as she stuck to him like a second shadow. The way she acted around him like a cat in heat had my eyes rolling twenty-four seven.

Guess I wasn't a fan of fowls.

I let out a muffled chuckle at the thought inadvertently.

"What's so funny?" Damon asked as he fell into steps beside me, leaving Hot Wings alone at the front. I didn't miss the daggers she was shooting before she flipped her hair over her bare shoulders and went off to pester someone else.

"Not much of a talker, huh?" Damon asked again, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"No. Not really," I replied.

He put on his usual charming smile and said nothing. As we made way to the nearest diner, Thomas zoomed past us on his skateboard with a speed that could rival a fighter jet on a mission.

I was staring at him enviously as Thomas swerved left and right as effortlessly as breathing. I was jealous of his skills, and most importantly of his agility. My clumsy legs would most probably give out once I stepped on the board.

"Wanna give it a try?" Damon asked as he jerked his head at the skateboard he held under his arm. I chanced a look at the sleek, fiery body of his skateboard.

It was painted with extreme detailed design, giving off an aura as intimidating as its owner. Like a graceful oriental dragon, the swirling wisp of white paint twirled around the body almost like a coy seductress hiding behind a thin veil.

He must have taken notice of the spark of admiration in my eyes. I shook my head jerkily with my hands waving to emphasize my point. The skateboard was a beauty and shouldn't be tarnished by klutz like me.

"No, no, no. It's fine," I rejected his offer. Damon looked unconvinced so I quickened my steps to escape from his probing gaze. "Really. I'm good," I insisted.