Nick really seemed to be into the idea of creating chaos with the Angels, something which I tried to stop.

"You don't get it, Alex," he huffed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "If I don't mess with them, they'll mess with us first."

"Hey," I stood on my tiptoes due to the fact that he was much taller than me, and ruffled his hair so that it stood more neatly. I didn't even realise I had done so before Nick looked at me with that glint in his eye. Well, I seemed to have improved his mood slightly.

"So," I emphasised the word, trying to gain back some of my confidence after making such a gesture. "It's just an endless game of Xs and Os and no one wins?" I added. Nick's eyes darkened.

"That's not what it is. You haven't experienced a bad thing in your life, your folks probably love you, and that's fine, you just don't get---" I bit my lip, my joking tone from earlier fading.

"My parents kicked me out. That's why I moved." Nick closed his mouth that had been open mid sentence.

"Oh." I hadn't even told Ryder that, I'm not sure why I was telling him. I didn't want to hear anything pitying, that shit was awful.

"That sucks. They must have been shit parents," he responded. 

I broke down crying at the validating response. I always thought that it was my fault, that I was the shit kid, that they were right for hurting me and I was wrong for not enjoying it. They made me feel like I deserved it.

This was so stupid, I thought, blinking through my tears in an attempt to get them to stop falling. Why the fuck did I have to think about this shit again?

"Hey, no," Nick crouched down to my eye level, putting one arm around my neck and patting the other on my back. "Shhh, it's okay." He sat down on the concrete, bringing me with him and cradling me in his arms while I cried like a baby. Why did we always end up on the concrete together?

"Do you want to talk about it?" I shook my head.

Together we lay, one boy comforting the other against another brick building.

On Sunday Nick took me to what he called "the main spot" AKA the home of the Ghosts. I was shivering with anticipation at the thought of meeting other gang members, unsure if they would all be as friendly as Nick was (ok, he wasn't that friendly, but he was reasonably...level-headed?).

As Nick and I entered the main spot, I took my time to take in the surroundings of the building. I found myself quite surprised by the environment. It was very carefully thought out and almost beautiful in that way. Bookshelves lined the walls, and there was even a thin beige carpet at the entrance, which I stepped onto as I looked around. There was a coffee table and two armchairs, with various beanbags on the sides. Woah, this was elaborate. Was this really a gang spot? It looked more like the spot of ambitious homeless teenagers.

There was one girl with a leather jacket that I think I recognised from school. Orla? Ella? I couldn't quite remember. She was sitting in one of the armchairs, which I guess gave her some kind of rank. Nick nodded at her, which only confirmed that for me. On the other armchair was a muscular black boy around our age. I had never seen him before.

Standing by the side of those two was an absolutely huge guy. Imagine the rock, and then imagine him staring you down. Yeah, that's how I felt. It must be great to have this guy on your side.

The girl who I couldn't quite remember the name of spoke up first. "Hey Alex." Well fuck, now it just made me look like a douche since I couldn't remember her name. I tried to not in a cool way, but she wasn't buying it. She punched me lightly on the shoulder, introducing herself as "Leila." The black boy just stared at me blankly before offering his name. "Kalen."

"Are you Nick's new boy?" Leila wondered aloud, a statement which ruffled my feathers a little bit. Was Nick known for 'having boys?' She wrapped an arm around my waist in a manner that I was slightly uncomfortable with.

"Hey!" snapped Nick. "No touching." I chuckled slightly at the childish display of him talking about me like I was one of his toys, but I appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

"The big one is Steve," Nick introduced. "He's technically the leader, but I'm viewed as the leader by the Angels since that whole... thing, which I will tell you someday, just not right now. I didn't want to be the leader anyway. Wayyy too much pressure." Huh. This was getting more and more convoluted. The shit he must have been involved in years and years before I had arrived here...I didn't even want to imagine.

Two others walked in just as we were talking. Two brown-haired white guys, most likely twins and definitely brothers. "Michael and Owen."

Steve spoke up. "We're going to eradicate the Angels."

--------

On Monday, me and Ryder were on good terms again. I still hadn't told him the extent of how much time I was spending with Nick, but he could figure it out. After school, I attended swim practice, and now felt more comfortable in knowing another person on the swim team. The guys I had seen flock around him before I still couldn't fully recognise, except for Michael and Owen. Why was gang related stuff so swim related? I briefly wondered for an absurd moment if the Angels also had their own swim team, even though I knew it was impossible. There were some Angels at our school, no, I didn't know that, I just knew that an Angel's brother went to our school. Fuck. I knew so little. I wondered if Nick was intentionally not telling me the truth or I just hadn't asked enough questions. Maybe a bit of both.

For all that I liked Nick, I had no clue what he was hiding.

That night I texted him while I was lying in bed. It was around 2am and I couldn't sleep, so I wasn't actually expecting Nick to respond.

Alex: what did Leila mean, am I your new boy?

Nick:/: I had this one guy before, Aaron. He died in the fiasco last year tho. We were great friends, and we fucked a few times, but we were better off as friends.

I blushed hotly at the thought of Nick having fucked someone, and at the casualness of the fact that he had said a 'few' times. How could one exactly quantify a few? Generally that meant like, 3, right? But what if it was 4 or 5?

I brought my pillow over my face, groaning in frustration. Nick Hill, the fucking enigma.

What did he fucking mean?