Johnny.

The blue mustango, mustang trailed behind me, slowly creeping down the block. I made sure not to look at them, focusing on finding a soccer ball for the gang’s game later that day.

I heard the car brake, the ignition turn. I picked up my pace.

“Hey, greasy!” on soc slurred slowly. I turn around to see the reflection of his rings shine in my eyes. I put my hand up to block the glare.

The soc took this oppurtunity to attack, grabbing my upraised arm, and flipping me down. The pavement rushed up to meet me. The crack to my head sounded like a gunshot.

Before I had a chance to get up and defend myself,...

“You aren’t eating.” Johnny says as tu stare down at your plate.

“Not hungry.” tu mutter, staring at the comida in front of you.

He puts down his fork. “That’s what tu dicho at lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.” tu shrug.

“But I made your favorito! espaguetis, espagueti sauce. tu always like that.”

“I’m just not hungry.” tu sigh, picking up your fork and push around the spaghetti.

“Playing with your comida isn’t going to make it go away.” He says quietly.

“And eating isn’t going to make my ugly fat go away.” tu suddenly snap.

The look on his face kills you. tu can see...