“What’s a heroin sort of drug dealer?” I ask, mostly just to be annoying.
Princess looks at me like I’m a bit thick, and responds dryly, “A drug dealer who sells heroin.”
Paige snorts from somewhere behind me. She’s hung back with Bo and Amira. It feels a little weird. Usually, Paige is the one walking to my left. I’ve gotten used to having her there.
“Yeah,” I shrug, bumping my shoulder again his by accident, “but drugs are drugs at the end of the day.”
Princess considers that for a second, but ultimately dismisses it. “Heroin and antibiotics have pretty different uses, though.”
I don’t know why I’m arguing with him, apart from the fact it’s fun. “But plenty of prescribed drugs are way worse for people than, like, weed or something.”
Princess makes a sound like a laugh yanked into three torn pieces of noise. “Someone should really tell the pharmaceutical companies that they’re the bad guys. They probably don’t know.”
“Oh, the cynicism of today’s youth,” I proclaim sarcastically, nudging him in the arm again. “So sad.”
Princess nudges me back. “Guess we’ll have to fight against big pharma by supporting local dealers of stolen medical shit.”
I fist pump the air. “Viva le’ resistance!”
Princess laughs again, and this time it’s his real one, his full mouth splitting wide, eyes set alight from within their core like fire burning around coal. A shudder of exaltation travels through my chest, my heart quaking like a mountain when tectonic plates shift beneath the earth.
Trying to distract myself from the feelings roiling to life inside me, I drag my focus away from the cause of them and dart my gaze around. Searching for possible threats, so used to checking for trouble it’s become second nature, but mostly taking in the cracked and ragged streets of my home. No building I’ve ever lived in has felt as familiar as the paths and roads and alleyways that make up downtown Danger.
Moving through the streets of Danger at night is something I’ve become very adept at. In all honesty, I prefer running around at night than I do in the day. Amira calls me an owl, and I guess she’s right, except instead of hunting prey at night, I hunt out opportunities for myself and my friends. Whether that’s in making some extra money or having a little fun, it always seems easier to find what I need in the dark.
Princess goes inside the flat to meet with his dodgy chemist by himself, the rest of us waiting outside. I felt reluctant to let him out of my sight, but Paige saved me from embarrassing myself by trying to argue over it by shooing Princess off and saying we would stand guard in the corridor.
She doesn’t even make fun of me when I lean against the opposite wall and stare at the door Princess disappeared through with far too much intensity until he returns with the bag of meds in hand. The anxious energy that was building up inside me immediately begins to deplete. Relief hits me like a spike of ice at centre mass, cooling the searing burn that had begun expanding there. I don’t usually feel like that unless it’s about my friends’ safety. It catches me off guard to realise a boy I just met could inspire emotions so strong. I haven’t gotten attached to someone this fast before, not even Paige.
Princess, oblivious to my internal meltdown, holds up the bag of beds like a trophy. “Got it, lets go!” He marches off down the corridor, Amira and Bo rushing off after him, Bo asking what medication is in the bag and Amira signing away too fast for me to successfully track, although Princess seems to be understanding her perfectly well.
For a moment, all I can do is stare at him as he walks away. He’s so small and delicate-looking from a distance. It pushes my protective instincts into overdrive in a way I’ve never felt before with anyone else, which is stupid, since he probably doesn’t need my protection and doubtless he would scorn it if I offered.
I don’t get moving again until Paige elbows my arm and starts shuffling me forward. “Come on, you can stare forlornly at your new boyfriend and walk at the same time. You better be able to, anyway, or you’ll be useless to all of us, and we’ll have to dump you in the gutter.” She links her arm through mine, squeezing my bicep.
“Oh yeah? What happened to never leave a man behind?”
“We’ve always been more theall for one and one for alltypes? That means you have to pull your weight equally and not fall for every pretty damsel you come across.”
“First, call that kid a damsel to his face. I dare you. He’ll chew your jugular out. Second, if we’re musketeers, then I think it’s very much true to canon for me to fuck shit up in the name of romance.”
Princess takes us to an old book shop in a quieter part of downtown. It’s abandoned and all bordered up, the only thing signifying its past purpose is the name displayed across the front of the building, branding it ‘Bill’s Books’.
There’s a window down a side alley which Princess jimmies open. He insists on going first to warn the other kids so they won’t get scared and try to scatter. When he gives the all-clear, a sharp whistle that pierces the air and echoes out from the bowels of the shop, each of us climb through the window one at a time.
It’s very dark inside with no lights on except the stark illumination of a singular torch. Paige, Amira and Bo all stick close to me as we wander through the retired shop towards the only source of light.
Hidden behind old, dusty bookshelves that probably haven’t hosted books in years, we find Princess kneeling in front of two kids. From what I can seem of them in the darkness they look younger than me by a few years. They’re similar enough in appearance to make me think they’re family by blood, siblings or maybe cousins. It would hardly be the first time kids from the same family decided their chances were better off without the adults in their lives.
Both kids are bundled up in puffy coats despite the mild weather and have a pallid look to their skin.
Princess has already dug into the bag of medication and seems to be explaining how to use them, the dosage and how often they should be taken.
The kids look up at us when we appear around the corner. Despite being warned of our impending arrival, they both tense up, looking like they might bolt despite their obvious illness.
“This is Ryan Knight,” Princess tells them, like it’s a reassurance, sparing me a quick look I don’t have enough time or light to read.
“Knight?” One of the kids asks, looking up at me with new appreciation. “TheKnight?”
