Facing Away (Broken Streetfighter)

Chapter Forty Nine

"It was two!" My mother happily claps at Alec's attire.

Kylie, Bree and Lola all laugh when they enter the ballroom. Since they weren't the ones who'd be doing interactions with people, they were dressed in a more casual sense of style - in true teenage party fashion. 

"Well?" Kylie looks up at me with a raised eyebrow. "Aren't you gonna compliment me?"

She was wearing a black skater skirt with a dark green shirt and black heeled wedges. Lola was dressed more like a nun, with a pretty blue dress that went down to mid-shin and showed no cleavage, only showing the top of her collarbone where it met her neck, with nude heels. Bree was wearing black skinny jeans with a long sleeved dark blue v-neck shirt.

"Y'all are looking smoking!" Alec says with a stupid grin on his face. My mother smacks him upside the head, but doesn't make any further comment.

"Kylie, oh, my dearest and I think only cousin, whom I love so much, please, accept my compliments as I give them to you," I state sarcastically. "Number one, that green shirt really brings out your eyes. Number two, that skirt really shows off your legs. Number three, your hair up really showcases your slender neck. Number fou-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," she rolls her eyes. "Sarcasm wasn't necessary."

"Only for you."

We all walk around doing our own thing for a bit before the first guests truly begin to arrive. Fred finds me first.

"Alexander," the old man greets. "Congratulations on this triple celebration. How are things with you and your gang? All good?"

"Of course," I mutter. "Everything needs to be good within the best gang in the country." 

There was bite in those last words and it doesn't go unnoticed by him. His left eye twitches before smiling widely and broadly. "Well, have you seen my daughter, your fiance? The dress she's in is truly fit for a princess."

The irony.

"Not yet."

"We've decided to announce the engagement at midnight. Until then, I'll be working on getting more alliances from the smaller, more local gangs in the area who've sent representatives tonight. I expect you'll do the same."

There's an exchange of handshakes before we make eye contact, and nod firmly at one another. "I'll see you later."

I take my leave. There are still people arriving. This thing started over an hour ago, yet people tend to show up in groups, no one wanting to be the first ones here, no one willing to risk coming alone.

Different shades and variations of style fill the ballroom. Typically, if I was throwing a party in which I would invite people from school, the party wouldn't be held in here, or even in this location, but rather in one of the various warehouse locations we have near lakes. 

That's the one good thing about this state, the wilderness hides what people want to find. They carry our secrets because they can't talk.

"Alexander Black," I turn and notice an African American girl who wears high waisted black jeans, a white tank top with a black cardigan on top that goes down to her knees. "I'm Zumeya Pitts. Daughter of Aaron Pitts. The heir to The Spades. Well, heir if I get married by the age of twenty one. That's besides the point."

"Welcome," I greet her and hold out my hand for a hand shake. Her rough and callused hand touches mine in a firm handshake. "I'm glad The Spades could send their representation. I look forward to what the future may hold between our two gangs."

She smiles and her eyes crinkle at the sides. Her hair is brown and curly and her eyes are grey. She giggles. "I'm actually not the representative, but even if I'm not, I can tell you straight up that The Spades won't be doing any alliances with the Black Mississippi gang, nor with the Black Knights - not as long as you're engaged to Amy Kuether."

"What do The Spades have against her?" Immediately I'm intrigued and suspicious.

"Oh, it's nothing major," she giggles again. "It's just that us African Americans have never really gotten along with those Mexican gangs. It's just the way it is. The heir of the Night Howlers, a now Hispanic dominated gang, isn't really as praised amongst our gang."

(A/N: Don't hate on me, I got like half that line from a movie)

"I see."

"Well, I must be off. If you ever break it off with the fake taco, well, look to The Spades for anything you may need," she winks before walking off, her hair bouncing behind her.

"I wouldn't call Amy a fake taco," Riley murmurs, suddenly next to me. "Sure, she looks Hispanic, but she technically isn't really classified as Mexican-American since her mom was born here. Now, she's just American."

"So the spy had the guts to show up to one of the biggest gatherings of the Illegals," I mutter while glancing around the room and not at Riley directly. "Where's Shawn? I hope you realize he's the only reason you're able to roam about right now."

"Bathroom," she mutters. "Listen . . . how much do you know about the creation and founding of the Black Mississippi gang?"

"Why?" I turn sharply towards her.

"No reason," she shrugs and stalks off.

It turns out, Riley was far more important than any of us ever realized. Letting her walk around freely, it would prove to be the biggest mistake I've ever made.

Hey! 👋

So, I hate this chapter. A lot. How'd y'all like it?

I was gonna make it longer, but decided it would be best to cut it off here.

So, I have a whole list of excuses as to why it took me so long to update, but the main reasons are:

1 - I lost motivation to do anything

2 - I ran out of pre-written chapters

So ya ... also, I'm obsessed with Hamilton right now, and well, I'll put in some song lines throughout the next  chapter 😂

Till next time!

Bye! 👋