Street Runner

Chapter 3: A New Friend

Maybe she just seems tall for her age because I'm not exactly tall myself, I thought silently.

I sat down on the hard, cool ground and Zaylee copied. I didn't even have to offer the covered plate of fries because she just dug in. I tried to hold back my displeasure.

"What's your name?" Zaylee asked in between chewing.

"Chase," I answered, taking a handful of fries before she dogged them down.

"Chase," she paused as if thinking, "that's a weird name." She decided.

"So is Zaylee," I said back, "and my real name is Charles."

Zaylee laughed. "Charles sounds like some old man's name. I think I'll just call you Chase." I just stared at her. I hope this kid didn't think we were friends now. I can't be sharing my food with her everyday, I thought horrified at the idea. I barely ate most days.

"How old are you?" She asked next.

"16," I said trying to focus on my food.

"16?" she repeated as if that age couldn't be right. I just looked at her. She was starting to get more annoying the less hungry she was. "You don't look like you're 16," she laughed. Didn't this retard know that someone could hear her big mouth and come jack our- my food?

"And you don't look like you're hungry," I said back, moving the plate from between us. Her deep brown wides widened and she bit the side of her lip.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, looking right into my eyes.

I inwardly groan as I set the food back between us. "Just shut up and eat," I grumbled.

***

"Thank you," I mumbled to the elderly couple that had just handed me a few dollars.

"Don't thank us. Thank God," the woman said before linking arms with her husband once again as they strolled across the street.

When I watched them cross over my eyes landed on a group of tattered boys intently watching me. An uneasy feeling gripped my guts as I pocketed the money and stood, now ready to leave. I could still feel the groups hard eyes on my back as I briskly walked down the street pushing past people. I took a quick glance behind me and sure enough they were following me.

Panic began to rise in my chest and the few bills in my pocket suddenly felt heavy. That's what they were after. A few measly bills that meant nothing to people with a roof over their heads and three meals a day, but to us street kids it was everything.

"Not today," I murmured to myself. I was not about to get punked today. Somebody already stole my pack, then my shoes. Nah, I thought, I'm not about to be easy prey.

I rounded the corner and took off. I was not about to get jacked. I didn't care how hungry they were. I hadn't eaten a meal since the night before and then I had shared it with that girl, Zaylee.

I didn't dare look back, but I could hear their shoes hitting the concrete as they chased after me. My legs and chest protested but I continued to push forward. I hadn't run like this in a while so my body was giving out already.

I rushed past people, not caring if I almost knocked them down or not. I did a sharp right turn into an alley and cursed under my breath. Dead end. It was too late to leave the alley because the group had been right behind me. But if I stayed I would be cornered.

My eyes darted from left to right looking for something or anything that I could use to protect myself with. My eyes landed on a broken piece of glass. As my heart hammered against my chest I picked up a large jagged piece. The glass broke my skin as I gripped it tightly.