2. Black Sheep

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   I'm stuck staring after them in a kind of awe. Golden boy continuously combs a bruised hand through his hair, clutching the nape of his neck. Something black protrudes from his shirt. It's a tattoo. Next to him, the boy with warm curls walks, and next to him the blonde one, and then the ash-blonde guy with the deadly glare.

   They round a corner, and when they do it's like the air changes and is returned to normal. The way they ceased the space around us was unbelievable.

   I'm pulled out of my thoughts when someone tugs viciously at my arm.

   "Oh my god," Naomi gasps, drawing my attention back to her. "Do you have any idea what you just did?" Her eyes are widened and alarmed, and her skin is pale. She looks horrified.

I shake her off me. "What?"

"What the hell did you do that for?" Naomi whisper-yells while shaking her head in horror.

I shrug, my widened eyes being a result of her stress transferring to me. "I don't know!". I have no idea why I did that, whatever that was. It was dumb and I'm probably going to regret it some time, but it was four against one and that poor guy was completely messed up. How could I not?

"You have no idea what you have just done," her face reeks of stress and discomfort. I raise a brow. "You might think you've earned respect now and that they're going to lay off your back. You're wrong. They're never going to leave you alone," she stresses.

I frown, chuckling, "Don't you think you're overreacting just a little bit?

"No," she says out loud without a single hesitation. "They're never going to let the new girl get away with disrespecting them," she finishes. "They can't."

"It's not like I killed his grandma." I shrug.

"He might kill yours!" she exclaims loudly.

I roll my eyes playfully. "My grandmother's already dead so good luck with that."

"You don't get it." She shakes her head and lets out a huff of frustration. She keeps looking over her shoulder, and it's really distracting me from what she's saying.

"Why do you keep looking over your shoulder?" I cut her off. I know it's rude, but I have to know. She's being so jumpy.

"Because they're out for blood now, with you!" She pauses and leans closer to me to whisper. "Honestly, I think you're so cool and what you did was badass, but..." She leans back, straightening her back. "It was also reckless and foolhardy. I should probably not even be seen with you right now."

I let out a huff and roll my eyes. Naomi lets out an aggravated sigh.

"They're dangerous. They're notorious in a bad way. That guy you talked to. His name is Darius Frazier. He seems rather calm and all but if you upset him, he is Satan himself."

I smile awkwardly. Darius, huh? I think back to when we got all up close and personal. His full brows were pulled in and in one of them, there was a small scaring in the arch. All his features were defined and sculpted to perfection. And then there was that purple-red bruising covering his cheekbone.

"None of them are related, but they might as well be. They always got each other's backs, and if you mess with one you mess with all. Grae Walker, the bulky one, is the biggest asshole of them. He's so cold you get frostbite by being in the same room as him. Collins Smith, the blonde one, is the biggest flirt ever. He's easygoing, charming and he's mostly okay. Elias Symons, the tall one with curly waves in his hair is so mysterious no one even knows that much about him, and that's shady."

She sighs again.

"Those guys are trouble. They always show up with cuts and bruises, but people rarely see them stirring up trouble that obvious. What happened back there was unusual for them. They don't get into fights that obvious. They usually keep away from the spotlight."

She pauses. "There's a lot of rumors that they're in a gang or something, but I don't know for sure. Some even say that they are convicts on the run," she pauses. I nod slowly, trying my best to look interested.

Naomi sighs heavily. "They are bad news, but they own this place. Whatever you do, just keep your mouth shut and look the other way. Always. Trust me, you don't want to get their attention." Her lips press together in a firm line.

"Not more than you have already, anyway."


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