His legs burned as he towed Quinn out the back door and through the yard. If they could lose him in the trees they’d be fine. Or he’d catch up and kill him in the woods. Either way, it was less of a mess.

Two figures stood just before the tree line. Chris leaned back against the picnic table. He wasn’t with Devon, it was someone with neon yellow hair. Yellow held a glass pipe to his mouth, torching the end with a lighter.

“Chris,” Jack called out, panting.

“Jack?” Chris asked just before the gate slammed open.

“Get back here!”

Quinn pulled Jack behind Chris as they got closer. Yellow exhaled a lung full of smoke. The skunky smell of weed filled the air.

“What's happening?” Yellow asked. He didn't move out of Kyle’s way as he approached. He wasn't as tall as Kyle, or even very big. He was lanky at best.

“This has nothing to do with you, Faggot. Move,” Kyle managed to say through blind rage, getting in the guy’s face. Jack flinched. Neither Chris nor Yellow-Hair backed up.

“Yea, like I’ve never heard that before,” Yellow said, holding out the pipe to Chris. Chris rolled his eyes and took it.

“Can you leave Jack alone? I already feel like shit, I don’t need to deal with yours.” He lit the bowl of the pipe with his lighter.

“Move,” Kyle repeated. Chris shook his head, blowing smoke out of his nose. 

“What makes you think I won’t tell Devon?” He asked.

“Why do I care?” Kyle fumed, pacing a step side to side. He was looking for an opening around them, like a tiger behind a fence.

Quinn tugged at Jack’s shirt, pulling him further back towards the woods. Jack put a hand on his shoulder, trying to be reassuring. If they moved any further back Kyle could run around Yellow.

“Smitty’s is short-staffed,” Chris said. Devon had worked at that grocery store since forever; he had the seniority to get someone in.

Kyle rolled his eyes. “That’s convenient.” 

Chris shrugged. “Whatever, it’s not my problem if you don’t believe me.” He took another hit off of the pipe.

“Alright, chill, I haven't even done anything,” Kyle said, maintaining the same level of aggression while backing off.

“Yea, his black eye looks self-inflicted,” Yellow commented, looking back at Jack. He was a redhead under the yellow. His eyebrows were still their natural orange. Chris handed the pipe back to him.

“I'm leaving, ok? No reason to mention this to Devon,” Kyle agreed, turning back to the house.

“Not unless you give me one.” Chris waved a middle finger at Kyle's back.

Yellow exhaled, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. He held out the pipe in Jack’s direction. Jack waved a no. Now didn’t seem like the time to try it. Yellow nodded and passed it back to Chris.

“So,” Chris ran his thumb over the lighter a few times before it caught, “either of you wanna explain what that was about?” he asked, bringing the pipe back to his mouth. 

Jack looked to Quinn. His eyes were glued to the ground again. He wasn’t going to talk in front of them.

“We walked in on Kyle stealing from the pill cabinet-” 

Chris coughed into the pipe, spraying ash and weed out the other end. “What?” He continued to cough in a higher pitch.