One of Us (KID PIRATES X READER)

« Chapter One »

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The tray you had been clutching in your hands began to softly quiver as you studied the room around you, desperately scanning for just one available seat. Howls of merriment fused with eager chattering stirred the atmosphere. It made you feel a little self-conscious in a silly type of way. Everyone was crammed against one another like sardines as they sat and devoured their lunch at wooden tables with stiffly placed benches attached to them. The tables were obviously distributed by cliques leaving you with a disadvantage. None of your peers even gave you a second glance. You gradually made your way towards the center of the room as if you had somewhere to go. In reality, you didn't. You just wished no one noticed that. Getting discouraged the farther you went away from the checkout line, you found yourself at the back of the lunchroom. A pang of anxiety began to strike at your insides like an icepick.
Shit, you mused bitterly. I should've swallowed my pride and asked a teacher where the damn room was. I would've gotten a spot by now!
A scowl crept onto your lightly glossed lips as you helplessly gave one final look around. At that moment, as if the universe had been on your side, your (e/c) eyes had abruptly locked onto something unusual and well hidden. Lifting a brow, you had to do a little double take.
A relatively small table had been tucked into the back left corner of the lunchroom away from the main tables divided into four rows. It was situated at an awkward angle near the exit door pointing towards the courtyard. You had thought it was empty for a moment or two until you had noticed an occupant on the right corner of the bench, his back facing the wall. He was too busy poking at some noodles with wooden chopsticks to have noticed you slowly approaching him... at least you thought. You couldn't tell if he had due to the headgear that had made itself snug on his head, hiding his face completely. Blonde, untidy hair poured out from under his helmet only to cascade down his back. He started to push noodles into the multiple eyelets of his helmet. You uncomfortably watched as the noodles were quickly slurped up, disappearing into the headpiece. It was a messy sight. The ember of enthusiasm that had sparked in your chest after spotting the table was swiftly extinguished.
Great, I get to sit with the weird guy in the back. You suppressed a grimace as you closed the space between you and the table.
A forced smile pulled at your lips as you set your tray down in front of him.
"Hey," You started, sitting down across from him. Though your first impression of the male with a sunkissed complexion was pretty poor, that didn't mean you didn't have to be a decent person to him. Besides, you don't know him. Maybe he had a reason to wear a mask, and whatever it was, it was none of your business in the first place either. You couldn't help but wonder if they even allowed headpieces like that school handbook wise. That was for another time. Right now you just wanted to eat. Economics really tired you out anyways. You were looking forward to at least getting something down since you skipped breakfast today. You were about to ask him if he wanted a napkin as the noodles looked a bit buttery from what you could tell by the residue on his mask before he had placed his chopsticks down and lifted his head up to stare at you. You were a little thrown off by his odd behavior. Like you even expected him to be pretty mundane. Although you could not see his face, you felt it. You felt him boring his eyes into yours. The will to speak suddenly diminished as you two sat there in silence, watching one another. You could hear his breathing. You could hear your breathing. You were fairly uncomfortable. Both of you maintained eye contact for what felt like ages.
That's when you noticed it.
You had thought it was just your imagination at first. Selective hearing, even. Yet that just wasn't right.
Why is everything so quiet?
You pried your eyes away from him, hesitantly craning your neck to look around. No one was speaking, and they were all staring at you.
Horrified.
You managed to force out a weak smile.
"What's up with you guys?"
No one had answered. They just continued to gaze at you two.
Your stomach felt a little queasy. A girl with large, round eyes and heavy eyeliner obnoxiously mouthed some words at you, aiming towards the door with her pointer finger. Cocking your head to the side, you rose a brow. You didn't understand what she was saying, and why exactly she was mouthing words to you. Could she not speak? If this was a game they pulled with all the new kids, it was annoying. Embarrassing, even. The sound of shifting caused your attention to pull back towards the male with the blue and white headgear. He had picked up his chopsticks and began to slurp his noodles as if this wasn't a baffling situation to be in. You watched as the buttery pasta disappeared through the holes.
I really hope he washes that thing, You thought, a little amused yet disgusted. Back to your main focus. You motioned to everyone with an exaggerated wave of your hand.
"What's their problem?" You asked him, ignoring the hushed whispers beginning to break the silence. The atmosphere was now becoming tenser than it had been a couple of seconds ago, and it was as if the students were anticipating something. You didn't know what. That began to irk you. He stayed silent for a couple of moments as he shoved more pasta into the eyelets of his helmet. You couldn't tell if he was ignoring you or thinking. A frown plastered itself onto your features as a result of your growing impatience.
"They're shocked," He murmured lowly. You crinkled your nose up.
"Why?"
"No one sits with me." He bluntly affirmed, picking up a little juice box before taking a sip with the aid of a plastic straw. Although you had attempted to contain it, a short laugh had escaped you. It sounded so stupid! Sure the guy ate a little unattractively, but so what? Yeah, you can admit that his helmet was a bit of a turn-off as well, but he didn't seem like such a frightening guy to deserve a shun like that to this degree. He was a little weird, but he didn't seem bad. You rolled your eyes.
"That's ridiculous. Sure you look a little shady, but I doubt you deserve a reaction like this."
The mood had visibly soured. The same girl that had expected you to read her lips shot up from her seat, her pink pigtails bouncing in the process. The male stayed silent as he turned his head to look at her. You followed suit.
"What are you talking about, you dummy?! He's Killer! The brute practically moved schools because he tried to stab a principal after he beat the P.E teacher up over his stupid helmet!" She hissed, pointing a finger at you menacingly. You shrunk a bit at her sudden outburst, barely even processing what she was going on about after the word 'stabbed'. "On top of that, it isn't even the tip of the iceberg! He's just like his parents, and you know where they are? In jail! For attempted murder!" You blanched a little.
What the fuck.
"Perona, quiet down!" An orange haired chick with fair skin snapped, tugging the girl back into her seat by her arm. "You shouldn't be talking about his past like that, especially in the lunchroom like this. Everyone has issues, you can't be blabbing about something that happened a while ago!"
"That was literally last year!"
"You're talking shit about him in front of his face! What if he tells Kid?! Stop being dumb!"
You groaned. The sound of your heart pounding in your ears canceled out the bickering girls. No one had the courage to break the two apart as they argued, practically pressing their foreheads together in the process. You wondered where the teachers were. Weren't there supposed to be some sort of monitoring in the lunchroom anyways?
You had an overwhelming urge to hit your head against the table in frustration at the fact you've basically been fucked over the entire day by your luck! You just wanted to drop dead at the very moment. Literally. Of course, you end up sitting by the shady guy with a criminal record!
The obnoxious sound of air passing through Killer's straw as he attempted to get the last drops of apple juice from the bottom of the juice box caused you to slowly look at him. Your heart was racing.
"What, you want one?" He asked, cocking his head to the side a little.
You got to be fucking kidding me.
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The entire lunch period was daunting. You had sat there in silence, eating your meal while Killer ate his. Every once in a while you could've sworn that you felt his eyes on you. Mr. Shanks had been assigned lunch duty, though he didn't show up until the whole ordeal had unfolded. His defense was that he had to help another teacher deal with a lad named Eustass out in the parking lot. You couldn't help but call bologna on that but you didn't say anything about it. The orange haired girl and the girl named Perona had their argument broken up by a classmate with electric blue locks tied up in a high ponytail. Mr. Shanks had his ass verbally handed to him by the girl you thought you had heard was referred to as Nami by the teacher. In other words, he didn't get that far with them. After you had completed eating, you hurriedly cleared without giving Killer a second glance and headed towards your upcoming class. Yeah, you felt a little bad about it, but to be fair you didn't feel one hundred percent safe talking to him, let alone sitting with him. He assaulted a teacher along with a principal, for goodness sakes!
Readjusting your backpack as you made your way down the hall, you entered into your next class, Spanish. People already started to file in as fifth period began to near. You didn't want to sit in the front so you decided that sitting in the back would do. You slid into a desk situated near the left corner. The teacher, a man with piercing yellow eyes and inky black hair had sat at his desk, flipping through what you believed to be a novella. You started to dig through your backpack to find your notebook and pencils, neatly placing them on your desk. You didn't really know what you needed, but at least you'd be kind of prepared, right?
As the bell was about to ring, two massive lads slipped through the doorway, immediately taking their seats next to you. Though you didn't spare them a glance, something had really caught your attention. Only when they had infiltrated the room had you noticed it. Narrowing your eyes, you sniffed the air a little. It hit you hard.
The guys next to you reeked of marijuana.
Turning your head towards the wall, you blanketed your nose with your hand while scrunching it up in revulsion.
They smell like a skunk's ass!
The bell had rung, signaling the start of class.
"Siéntate ya," The teacher had warned, rising from his desk to make his way towards the head of the room near to the whiteboard. Your classmates had found their places and sat down, the chatter dying into silence in the process. You observed as he began to write with a black marker on the board.
"We have a test on Friday, don't forget about it. If you don't get a ninety percent or higher you will earn a failing grade. You are limited to two retries," Mr. Dracule bluntly stated, the class erupts into a mass of groans and complaints. He had swiftly hushed everyone with a cutting glare. "In other words, don't screw around and use this period wisely. I recommend you all to study."
Your attention had been on his unusually pigmented eyes, not even bothering to process the information he had just announced.
"On a lighter note," He continued, placing the cap back onto the marker before setting it down. "It seems we have a new student joining our class."
Here we go, You thought unamused. You had always hated introducing yourself as the new kid.
"Oye, muchacha," He motioned you to stand up. "Why don't you give us your name?"
You awkwardly rose from your seat, disregarding the fact everyone had turned their attention towards you. Even if it was making you a little self-conscious. "It's (y/n)." A couple of greetings were milked out from the class as the teacher nodded.
"Welcome to the class, (y/n). I'm Mr. Dracule." He crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I don't expect you to pass the test, though I want you to make an attempt. I'd like to get an idea of where your starting point would be." He glanced at the two guys next to you, causing your attention to be pulled towards them. "I want you to work with Heat and Wire for the time being. They're quite advanced in this class so I assume you'd learn at least something." He spoke rather candidly. You just nodded in reply, sitting back down into your seat. "That's all. Get to work."
Mr. Dracule had gone back to sitting at his desk, pulling out a folder stuffed with paperwork. The room had broken into calm conversations as students began to study with partners for the upcoming test. Though Mr. Dracule hadn't specified if it was a written test or one done by speaking, you had assumed it was more of an oral test by the looks of what was happening around you.
"Oi cabrón, dame tu pluma. Yo tengo escribir para la chamaca."
Cocking your head to the side, your attention gravitated towards the guy next to you. He had thick, light blue dreads that flowed down his back and tattoos that of thorns poking out from a plain black t-shirt that ran down his toned arms and wrapped around his neck. What was the most striking characteristic about him was the fact he had stitches on his face in the most inconvenient places, and noticeable scars on the edges of his lips giving him a Chelsea smile. It made you a little uncomfortable just by looking at it. The guy next to him had stuck his hand out, waiting for something. It wasn't really clear to you who had spoken just then. You also didn't understand him enough to get what he needed. His thick black brows were furrowed, giving him somewhat of a demanding look.
"What'd you say?" You questioned, turning your body in your seat to properly face them. The taller of the two tossed you an uninterested look at you as the tattooed one pulled out a black fountain pen and dropped it in his hand.
Rude.
"He asked me for a pen." The blue haired teen stated though his response was a little delayed, not even bothering to look at you as he pulled out a piece of paper from a notebook he dug out from a bag littered with pins and slid it towards his companion to write on.
"Oh," You replied rather sheepishly.
"How much do you know anyway?" He continued as his friend began to record a couple of vocabulary words and sentences for you to study with.
"A little I guess, I mean all I really know is greetings. I didn't take Spanish at my old school and I thought it'd be something to pass the time with since I didn't really want a study hall." You shrugged.
"Mirala," The black haired one rolled his eyes. "She's lying. She's probably here to ogle the damn teacher like all the other girls."
"That's not true!" You snapped, irritably shooting him a glare. He returned it without hesitation. "I didn't even know what he looked like until today!"
"Calm down," The guy next to you warned, giving you both a deadly look. You leaned back a little out of instinct as the bigger guy crossed his arms tightly over his chest, awkwardly looking away. His mopish expression returned moments after. "It's our job to help her out. Even if the boss isn't gonna count it against you the least you can do is try. Wire grew up speaking the language so he can contribute," He stated, giving Wire a sharp look before relaxing his expression back into his default. He looked rather sad, to be truthful. "I'm not one hundred percent perfect at it but I can still help. "
"Thanks," You flashed him a sincere smile.
He doesn't seem so bad. His friend seems really bratty, though.
"What's your name again?" You pried.
"Heat."
"You two have weird names."
"That's an unoriginal comment, (y/n). I would've found it funny if you commented about my lack of eyebrows or something. Not my name."
A grin highlighted itself onto your features as a smile ghosted onto his lips in response to your statement. Wire just rolled his eyes for the second time, pushing the piece of paper towards Heat after finishing up.
You had a feeling that you'd get along with your unique looking classmate. The other one? Not so much.
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After fifth period, time appeared to fly by. You worked on pronunciation and basic sentence structure with the guidance of Heat and Wire. When seventh period came around you were pleasantly surprised to have an art class with Heat. The two of you wasted the time chatting about your favorite musicians and visual artists. Not going to lie, that guy was into some pretty dark stuff. Other than that you truly did fancy conversing with the brute. Throughout classtime, you didn't notice the concerned looks your teacher would toss at you every once in a while or the way your classmates had squirmed uncomfortably in their seats when the massive fellow walked by to dig through some paper located in the head of the room.
You exchanged goodbyes with Heat before you left the classroom, slinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way down the hall heading to your locker. A tiny smile decorated your lips. You had expected the day to be shittier, but it wasn't as bad as you'd expect it to be. An overwhelming urge to go home and gush about your new friend to your parents had settled itself in the back of your mind. Yeah, you admit it was a childish thing to do, but you were a little excited. Your father had been relocated due to his job which ended up with your family packing up and heading to a new state. The move had honestly been stressful and just plain shitty. What had upset you the most was that your parents gave you a flimsy short notice about the relocation. Though you didn't have family in your last town other than your parents, you left your best friend behind. Your parents had to practically pry you out of Bartolomeo's arms as you put up a damn good fight. He had to convince you that he'd call you every night which had made you reluctantly let go after what felt like hours. After you obnoxiously smothered the male's face with kisses(much to his dismay), you hesitantly slid into the car. Though Bartolomeo acted tough, you knew otherwise. You had pressed your face against the window as you waved at him. He returned it, grinning at you as if to tell you everything was going to be okay. Too bad you didn't listen as you ended up crying throughout the ride to the airport. He hadn't called you since then. You hadn't really talked to anyone other than your mother and father after that, so it felt nice being able to talk to someone so freely.
The sound of a locker slamming shut caused you to jump, immediately jolting you out of your depressive state of mind. The girl next to you flashed you a disparaging look before throwing her bookbag over her shoulders and briskly walking away to catch up with a group of girls a few feet ahead. A blush powdered your cheeks out of humiliation as you immediately opened your locker and tossed your bag inside. You chose not to take it home since you were not assigned any homework today.
The halls were clearing out as students either made their way to the bus turn around or towards the parking lot to retire for today. A soft hum rose from you as you made your way towards the parking lot, tucking a strand of your (h/c) hair behind your ears. The wind nipped at you a little as you looked around for your mother's car. She had told you before you left for school that she would be picking you up today. Yet, you didn't see her car anywhere. Students were already piling into cars and recklessly pulling out of the parking space. You furrowed your brows and irritably drawn out your phone from your back pocket of your jeans to call your mother. After a few rings, your mom had eventually chosen to pick up her phone.
"Hello?"
"Are you here to pick me up? You said you would before I left for school today."
"No, didn't I text you? I'm at a hair appointment right now. I thought I told you that'd you'd have to take the bus home."
Your eye had twitched. "No, you didn't text me. In fact, I probably missed the bus. The turn around is all the way up in the front and I'm at the back of the school! Thanks anyway, though." Before your mother had the chance to say anything, you hung up. Were you a little harsh? Possibly. Your house was a good three and a half miles away, though, so you did think you had every right to be upset. In other words, you wanted to scream. Hell, you didn't even remember the directions you took to even come to school!
"God fucking damn it!" You hissed, stomping your foot furiously as you forcefully shoved your phone into your back pocket. Honestly, you felt like you were going to lose it. The sound of the back door slamming open had abruptly made yourself self-conscious about your current behavior. Immediately composing yourself, you readjusted your backpack and huffed, making your way towards the lawn that leads towards the footpath, and even further; the street.
I hope a car hits me.
"Hey (y/n), what're you doing?"
A voice had stopped you in your tracks. You blinked before turning around to check out who had addressed you. You hadn't recognized the voice until you identified the perpetrator's face.
Heat had raised up a shaved brow as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his washed black jeans. Next to him stood Wire, towering over the already large male as he crossed his arms over his chest, his mopish expression still prevalent on his features. Sighing in an exaggerated manner, you pointed to the road. "I'm walking home."
Heat observed you in silence for a brief second with a rather blank look. You awkwardly stood there gazing back at the two upperclassmen. "You want a ride?"
You couldn't help but gawk at him. He had legitimately just met you, and he's already offering you lifts as if you two have been friends for years! Saying yes would seem a little, well, risky, but at the same time did you really want to walk that far?
Pondering for a couple of minutes, you dramatically sighed. Heat continued to keep his rather sorrowful look on his not-so-friendly features while Wire began to look physically impatient. "Okay."
Heat nodded and motioned you to follow him as he and Wire began to walk towards where a lightly rusted red pickup truck was parked. Hesitantly trailing after, you clutched your book bag as the two led the way.
"Are you going to sit in the back of the truck or would you like to sit inside?"
"Isn't it illegal to ride in the back?"
"Not here."
The corners of your lips pulled down into a frown. Heat took notice and shrugged his broad shoulders. "As I said, you don't have to."
"There's a first time for everything, right? Guess I'll try it out. I wouldn't want you to ruin your hair or anything."
The teen cracked a barely visible smile as you flashed him a grin in return.
"Hey, you hackit fucks! Get in the god damn truck!" A redhead had barked, sticking his head out from the driver seat's window. Wire pulled the door open to the passenger seat and tucked the chair down for Heat to climb into the back. Heat climbed in and Wire placed the seat up, getting into the passenger seat. Wire turned to look at you while the redhead leaned towards him, amber eyes fixated on you. His forehead crinkled a little as he furrowed his brows in confusion. "Who the fuck is that?"
"Oh yeah," Heat started, leaning towards the front to look at his friend. "That's (y/n). She's coming with us." He had stated it with such simplicity as if it was no big deal that you'd be tagging along without the Scot's input. Even if it was his truck. The redhead scowled, shooting you a dark glare. You waved.
"Do I look like a fucking taxi?"
"I mean, you could be."
"Shut up Wire!" He hissed.
Wire gave him an uninterested look as he took out a box of cigarettes from the glove department, picking one out and then placing the box back into its original spot.
" Just do it, Kid. She lives close anyways."
Kid rolled his eyes as he let out a silent curse. "Fine. Get your ass in the back."
You awkwardly shrugged your shoulders. "Thanks, man." Kid quietly grumbled something under his breath as wire threw the door shut, taking the lighter Heat offered to light the cigarette. As Kid turned on the truck, you made your way towards the back. The sound of heavy music began to blare from the pickup as you stepped up onto the back of the truck, throwing your leg over to climb into the bed. You had been oblivious to the individual already occupying the space. After you managed to get in, you turned to make your way to the upper corner of the truck's bed.
"Hey."
Your heart skipped a beat out of shock as your eyes landed on the blonde haired male laying in the back, using his elbows to prop himself up. He seemed to be busy on his phone. You couldn't tell if Killer was looking at you or not, but you didn't really didn't care enough to ask. Your stomach sunk for the second time this day. You regretted even saying yes to the lift. Before you were even able to respond to his small greeting, Kid ungracefully pulled the truck from its parking space. A squeak was squeezed out of you as you quickly sat down in fear of slipping off the truck. Killer sat up in his spot, pulling his legs towards his chest. You looked visibly uncomfortable as the truck began to advance down the street at an unwelcoming speed, slight bumps shifting you involuntarily. The wind whipped your (h/c) locks back as you narrowed your (e/c) eyes a little, nose scrunched up in the process. You couldn't help but glance at Killer once in awhile. He simply sat there, the wind pulling his thick blonde locks forward which resulted in some loose strands to stick to his helmet. His phone was tucked back into his jeans.
"Maybe you should sit next to me. You won't have to look like you're walking in dog shit if your back is facing the wind. It'll be out of your eyes."
"No thanks, I'm fine!" You shouted over the wind, letting out a small grunt as the truck jumped abruptly over a projection in the road.
The roads here are shit.
Silence developed between you two as the whistling emitted from the wind and the blare of music pouring out the windows filled your ears. You couldn't pry your eyes away from him as he sat there. Tension seemed to grow between the two of you. Your throat began to feel a little dry. The sensation of his eyes on you made you a little nervous.
"You act like I'm going to hurt you."
"I really don't know what you're talking about, man." You retorted, a frown tugging on your lips a little. He just shrugged.
"Perona was right, yeah, but we all have reasons. Don't we?"
"What exactly was your reason?"
The truck recklessly turned down a street, causing the two of you to sharply shift. Your eyes were narrowed as you watched him scoot a little closer to you. He pondered before finally addressing your question.
"The teacher was a manky div," He stated in a matter of factly tone, crossing his arms over his toned chest. You raised a brow, the corners of your lips pulling down.
"I don't understand what you're saying."
"He was ogling burds as young as fourteen during class. I didn't like that. Kid wouldn't even do that, and he has no manners." He cocked his head to the side a little. "I called him out on it when he tried to pull that shit with one of the neighbor girls. He had it out for me since then."
"Is that why you assaulted him?"
"Mainly. He tried to pull my helmet off since I didn't want to remove it for class, and that took the damn cake."
"Isn't it against most school regulations to wear helmets, though?" Leaning forward towards the male, you stared at him quizzically. He mirrored your movements.
"I have special permission because of... circumstances." He responded. "In other words, I'm able to. He came from behind and tried to yank it off me when I was sitting." You couldn't help but notice how the tone of his voice dropped fairly low. A small shiver wiggled down your spine. "The principal just so happened to upset me."
This guy doesn't play around.
"What I'm saying is that just because we don't believe in the conventional right or wrong doesn't make us terrible people. All of us do shitty things. The world doesn't work in black or white. It functions in gray."
You licked your lips a little. Maybe you did overreact, though you did have the right to feel a little uncomfortable by it all. You were never exposed to these sort of things growing up. The truck made another turn. The truck was heading down a rugged looking street. You turned your head to observe your surroundings. A repugnant smell was prevalent in the air. Petite ran down houses littered the blocks. There were iron bars either covering the windows, doors, or both. The other houses had boards poorly nailed up over the entrances. Some of the yards were overgrown and kept in a pitiful state. The sidewalks were cracked and pieces were uprooted from their original spots. You pressed your lips together into a thin line. These were the neighborhoods you were taught to avoid back at your old place.
"Do you live around here?"
"We all do. Don't you?"
"No... I don't." Your voice traveled rather weakly as you sunk into your spot.
"...Where do you live?"
"I don't know."
The truck was pulled to a halt in front of a light green house with paint peeling from its walls. Killer knocked onto the back window of the truck as Wire opened the passenger door, climbing out. Heat didn't seem to have noticed his knocking as he was busy on his phone texting.
"You want to come inside?" Wire asked Kid, peeking into the truck. "My grandma is shopping for ingredients down at the tienda a few towns over, said she was going to make caldo." Kid grinned as you awkwardly looked around. No one seemed to be outside.
"Yeah, sure." He turned off the truck and got out from the front seat, flinging the door shut behind him. Wire pushed the passenger seat down so Heat could climb out. Kid walked towards the bed of the truck, tossing you two a hard look. "You two get out, we're gonna stay here for awhile."
You frowned. "I want to get home. I'd rather not get in trouble." Your words elicited the males to stare at you rather blankly.
"You can walk home if that's so important to you."
"She doesn't live around here," Killer interjected, causing the three to glance at one another.
"I thought you told me she lived near, you dumbass!" Kid hissed, glaring sharply at Heat.
The stitched male shrugged. "She doesn't look like she'd belong at the south end of town."
"Hey!" You shot at him, pouting. You didn't really know what that meant, but it sounded relatively shady. Kid pinched the bridge of his crooked nose, gritting his teeth. He seemed rather irritated.
"Where the fuck do you live?"
"I.. really don't know."
"You got to be fucking kidding me!" Heat rolled his eyes at the redhead's outburst.
"Hey, I literally moved here not too long ago, give me a break!"
"Do you at least know what's around your house? Is there like a gas station or something?" Heat questioned.
You thought about it. "I think there's a restaurant nearby. My dad took me there a couple of days ago. It's like French cuisine or something." You shrugged.
"The Baratie," Killer noted.
"So she does live on the south side." Heat mused, scratching his cheek.
Kid looked as if he was going to foam from the mouth. You sheepishly tucked a misplaced strand of your hair behind your ear.
"You better tell yer mommy you're gonna be busy with us boys then," he seethed, eyes piercing into yours. "I'm not driving across town just for you. You can go once I'm done having some fun."
Heat threw you an apologetic look as Killer rose to his feet, grabbing your wrist and forcefully pulling up. You squeaked a little at his strength.
"Come on (y/n), it'll be fun. You'll dig it." Heat assured you as Killer hopped off from the bed of the truck and made his way to the sidewalk. You rubbed the back of your neck.
"Okay. If any of you pull shit I don't like, though, I'll call my mom." You warned, flashing them all a nasty look. Kid pulled his painted lips back into a forced grin.
"You should've called yer mommy in the first place."
"Hey now, Heat offered me a ride. How could I say no to that face?"
"Whatever," Kid snapped, rolling his eyes as Wire rose a thick brow. Heat shrugged. "Just get in the damn house."
"Will do, Captain."