Teen Ink

Thieves

“So… when’s your birthday?” Lauren asked, trying hard to start a conversation. “May 12. I turned seventeen this year. How ‘bout you,” I replied, trying to keep the talk going. “April, and I turned sixteen this year.” I tried to think of something to say. I gave up after thirty seconds. I didn’t bother asking Lauren the day, I just walked on next to her.
We came to Lauren’s class. “Well, ‘bye,” she said, giving me a hug, which I returned. I wished I had something to say to her, but it felt like my brain had melted. It always did that around Lauren.
I went into math and sat next to Kyle. Our teacher began his rather boring lesson on calculus. Kyle and I played tic-tac-toe the whole time, occasionally looking up in order to look like we where listening.
Class ended. “What is that, seven classes that I’ve won,” I bragged to Kyle .He looked over his shoulder to make sure the teacher wasn’t looking, and then gave me the finger. I lightly punched him in the shoulder.
After the school day ended. I headed over to Kyle’s house for a quick video game competition. As Kyle and I chased and mowed each other down in the first-person-shooter that we were playing, Kyle dropped the bomb: “What’s going on with you and Lauren?”
I frantically tried to think of a logical response. Kyle was good at sorting out lies; it had to be good. ‘W-We’re just friends,” I spat out. Immediately after I said it, I slapped my face. The look on Kyle’s face told me everything. “You so like her,” he howled. I threw my controller at him. The perfect throw smashed him in the temple. “Ow, man! What the hell?” he yelled. “Sorry, man, but you were asking for it,” I said. In the video game, Kyle can up behind me and stabbed my over and over again in the back. “And you were asking for that,” he said with a laugh. I smacked my forehead.
At six I left Kyle’s house. I drove on for around twenty minutes until my gaslight came one. I pulled over at the nearest gas station and fueled up my car. I saw a vending machine around ten feet from my car. I shrugged.
I walked over and bought a soda. Twisting the cap, I took a long swig. It was always hot this time of year on The Sprawl.
I heard the sound of a car window break. I turned. Someone had broken into my car and was fumbling around inside. “Hey,” I yelled, running over to my car. The man took off with my wallet and phone. I looked over to an attendant. “Watch my car, please,” I said, already running after the thief.
I chased the man, leaping over curbs and dodging people. “Bring me back my frickin’ stuff,” I cried. If the man heard me, he didn’t show it. I shook my head. This could take a while.
The man ran into an alley. I followed him, my eyes adjusting to the sudden change of light. The man looked briefly at me before continuing to run. I chased him for around another ten yards before I got a cramp in my gut. I paused against a wall, holding my sides. The man was long gone, my wallet and phone with him. I gasped for breath. “I though I was in shape,” I gasped.
I heard a blood-curdling scream. I looked up. The scream continued, mixing in with pleas for mercy. I heard a wet splat and the noise ended. I slowly walked around the corner.
I saw a hand sticking out of an alley, my stuff clutched in its grip. I slowly reached down and pried open the fingers. I took my stuff back.