Our Side of the Strike

Seize the Day huh?

Race's POV

What da hell did I do now?

Well dis is just great. Ise've been livin in stupidity ta my best bud's life for, what 5 years now? Now everything's different and I don't know how ta handle it. I can't help her. I made everythin change. Life was great before I had ta go be "mr. nice supportive friend guy" and now I've screwed it all up. Is the old carefree friendship gone?

"Get up Racer even Spades is up b-" Albert mid sentence, lookin back and forth from her empty bed, ta her in my bed beside me. I drop her immediately, but ise is too late. A smile starts ta dawn on his face as he looks at me. "Racer" he says all sing-song like.

"Al..." I say pleadingly.

"Racer"

"Al"

"Racer you sicko." He exclaims wickedly. Wild excitement evident in his face.

Ise is dead.

"Al wes is buds ain't we?" I ask smiling.

"Well dat depends on how youse define buds. Youse've been calling Spades a friend for years but if dis is friends..." he breaks down laughin, unable ya finish da sentence, until he's able ta wheeze out, "we ain't neva gonna be 'buds'!"

Ise was dead, neva ta be redeemed.

Unless...

'Neva speak of dis ta anyone, odda wise ise can promise youse a slow and painful death at my hands.'

Damn it.

"Dis ain't what ya think." I explain, tryin ta divert him. It ain't woikin. So I get outta da bed and tip toe ova to him and asks just as politely as I knows how, "Please don't tell no one Al. Dis stretches far outta your undastanding.". As I ain't neva dis serious, it seems ta hit him dat dis is important. Sos he hesitates, then nods and leaves us be.

"Spades" I call softly.

Spade's POV

I wake up rememberin the events that had taken place last night.

Holy sh-

"Spades" I hear Race call me. I bolt up right, get outta bed immediately, and start headin down the ladda. "Gettin up no fightin? Ya feelin ok?" He asks, feigning concern by puttin his hand ta my forehead. I just try to smirk off with the same ease I used ta have with him.

"Can we just pretend nothin happened last night?" I ask pleadingly.

"I don't know what ya talkin about." He says with a wink.

"Common wes got strikin ta do!" I say regainin my old excitement and grabbin him the hand draggin him ta the circulation gates.

.............................................................................

"Is anyone else comin?" Davey asks.

"Don't got a clue." Jack sighs.

I'm shocked dat da general public weren't just drawn ta da life threatenin strike wit da clueless leada who's doin dis whole thing ta impress da little rich goil.

"You saw Spot Conlon right." Poor naive Racer asks. The lova boy, whiney school kid, and the unda aged just stay silent. "What'd he say?"

"Sure we seen him." Says our 'very competent' strike leada.

"Him and about 20 of his gang." Davey adds.

Ain't ya a little too refined ta know what gangs are David?