A/N- Hi everyone! This is not my first post on FictionPress but it is my first story on here. So, please, don't be harsh in your reviews. I kind of didn't know what to rate this. I wish there was a such thing as a "T+" rating. Meaning it's higher than a T but lower than an M. I didn't want to put it in M "just to be safe" because it's not M. I'm just warning you it's a little more risqué. And before I forget: Everything in this story is FICTIONAL except for the city of Santa Rosa, California. I highly suggest that the actions and activities (such as gangs, smoking, underage drinking) portrayed and/or partaken in by the characters are NOT done in real life. They can have serious consequences. Now, without further ado, enjoy!
Pound, Pound, Pound. Their footsteps were heavy. Too heavy. Obviously, these people didn't know the meaning of the phrase "Walk quietly." Other than that, everyone was walking in silence. Everyone except my two friends, Matt, Veronica, and I that is.
"They're coming; getting closer," Veronica warned.
"They're chanting," Matt added.
"I'm aware." And I am. Very. I'm trying to keep my guard up. I'm trying hard, but not too hard to the point where my weaknesses are out there in the open.
I'm a pretty strong person, don't get me wrong, but I don't sugar coat myself. There are things that can tear me down just like anybody else. My biggest weakness is pressure. And at this point in my life, I have a lot of pressure. I have the pressure of keeping up my straight-A record, putting in college applications, and being the leader of the most famous and most powerful street gang in the SGC, the Street Gangs of California. Everyone in my gang and our rival's gang live here in Santa Rosa.
The SGC is a secret society. You only know about it if you're in it; if you're in it, it's one of your biggest kept secrets. There are 2 divisions of gangs in the society. There are the gangs that kill, sell drugs, etc. Then there are the ones that are full of rebels, troublemakers and look to start something, but mostly, are in a competition for power amongst other gangs. My gang is that second kind…and we've already won that competition. Another crucial key point: We don't snitch on other gangs, enemies or not. That's a vile crime in the SGC.
Each gang is named by their leader's initials. My gang is named N.I.C. Stands for Naomi Isabel Carter. Our arch rival is K.A.M. The leader is Kyle Adam Mitchel.
The dim street lights add the slightest lumination to the pavement. Without them, it would be pitch black, considering there is no moon out tonight. I stopped, turned on my heel, and faced the group. They stopped right along with me (as they should).
"When we get there, I want everybody except Matt and Veronica to keep their mouth shut," I ordered. Everyone replied with a simple, "Understood."
We continued to walk until we reached the dead end. There, we saw K.A.M. Some members were standing in groups talking, some sitting on the curb chatting, making out, or playing on their phones. The minority were standing in a circle with Kyle. A girl tapped him on his shoulder and alerted him of our arrival. He threw his cigarette onto the ground and put it out with his foot.
"Well it's about damn time," he remarked, walking towards us.
"What the hell do you want?" I rudely asked.
"Why is it that every time I ask you all to meet us somewhere, you suspect I want something?" Kyle questioned.
"Naomi, Veronica, and I have known you since elementary school. You can't fool us," Matt said, sternly.
"Oh shut-up," Kyle snapped. By the way it looked, if Veronica hadn't grabbed Matt's shoulders and held him back, Matt would've had Kyle on the ground in 2 seconds flat, even though Kyle has a slightly broader build than Matt. I stepped in front to intervene.
"Can we just get this over with?" I rushed him out of pure annoyance and also because I was tired.
"Right. Well, I have a head count of who's in your group and you're familiar with who's in mine. So, for your courtesy, I wanted to alert you of a new addition." Just then, a tall (but extremely fit) guy with brown hair walked over from the circle and stopped right behind Kyle. "This is Leo. Leo Donovan. Leo, this is Naomi Carter, Veronica Serrano, Matthew Vaughn and the rest of N.I.C."
People didn't have much reaction. I, on the other hand, caught myself staring at Leo as he was staring at me. It wasn't an uncomfortable stare. Nor was it a flirtatious stare. It was just…a stare. I snapped out of my trance and looked back at Kyle.
"If that's all, then I guess we'll be leaving," I said, directing it towards him. "Kathryn!" I yelled to my (I guess you could say) "assistant", Kathryn Sharpe. "I need my heavier jacket. It's getting quite…cold out here." She hurriedly rushed forward with my thick white jacket in her hands, her blonde ponytail blowing as she ran. I saw Kyle's eyes follow Kathryn's tall, slender form as she walked to where she was previously standing in the back of the group. It looked as if he was plotting something. As if an idea had just popped into his head. An idea that in which the outcome would give him sheer joy to watch. In the 3 years Kyle has been aware of her presence in N.I.C., he has never looked at her like that before. I decided to shrug this suspicious thought off for the time being. We turned to walk away on my cue.
"See you at school tomorrow!" Kyle called after us. We were already half way down the street.
"Whatever!" I yelled as all of us went our separate ways towards our homes.