15. Franny

Two hours later the races are over. Ethan comes bounding over to us, easily slipping past the mass of people leaving the stadium. He's decked out in a full biker suit with a helmet covering his face. He reaches up and pulls off the helmet, hooking it under his arm.

    "So?" He spreads his arms wide, nearly knocking a random person out with his helmet. "Impressed yet?"

    "Don't get cocky," Tyler mutters.

    Ethan just grins at him and then turns to me. He raises his eyebrows and awaits my answer. I blink rapidly. "Oh! Um, yeah. It was great, really."

    "Okay, maybe Ginge will have a better reaction," Ethan says and winks at Tally. "So? Were you impressed with my display of perfectness?"

    "I wouldn't exactly call it perfect . . . " Tally trails off.

    "Man, is it that hard to get a compliment around here?" Ethan huffs.

    I refrain from mentioning that I did give him a compliment (despite that it was a little delayed and confused) and instead just stand there silently. People pile out of the stadium idly, some going faster and others just taking their sweet time.

    The four of us stand and talk a little longer. Mostly, Ethan is trying to impress Tally, and Tyler apologizes profusely whenever he accidentally touches my shoulder or my arm, which only makes me smile.

    He's funny when he's flustered.

    Eventually Ethan walks off to change his clothes and get his bike put away with the rest of the teams'. Tyler gestures towards the main exit, so we slowly head out with the remaining few people.

    "So, did you like it?" he asks.

    I nod. "Yeah. I never thought I would see anything like that."

    "I'll never admit it to the bastard, but he wasn't bad," Tally says, smiling a little. I grin at her.

    "You've only just met Ethan and you're practically killing him," I comment.

    Tyler laughs and my own smile widens a little. I like it when he laughs, it just sounds so carefree and happy that I can't help but smile along with him. It's one of those moments when the Tyler that everyone knows—the one who threw away football and popularity—is not the one I get to see. I get to see another part of him, a hidden little gem of the boy that no one else understands.

    We make it out of the stadium and into the night air. The sky is completely clear of clouds, and full of stars. The sound of cars driving away and bikes revving fills the silence outside.

    I'm too distracted by everything around me to realize that Tyler's stopped dead in his tracks, until I bump into his back. I place a hand on his shoulder.

    His eyes are looking right ahead at something and I follow his gaze. "Tyler . . .?"

    I stop talking when I take in what he sees. Tyler's truck is parked in front of us but standing beside the red vehicle are two men. They look much older than any of us, maybe in their late thirties or early forties. I take a step back, my hand still on Tyler's arm.

    "Tyler?" I whisper. "Who are they?"

    He doesn't answer, and I glance beside me to see Tally there, frozen to the spot and seemingly just as confused as I am. Ethan comes running up behind us and steps into the gap between my best friend and me.

    "The fuck are you doing here?" Ethan spits.

    One of the men takes a step forward as the other runs a finger down the window of Tyler's truck. "This hasn't got anything to do with you, Ethan. Stay out of things you don't know."

    "Then stay away from him," Ethan says.

    "I would," the man says, smiling and holding his arms out. "I really would. I don't give a shit about the kid. He's just another fighter. But the problem is that I can't stay away from him. He stole money and has now called the cops on us."

    "Called the cops?" Tyler steps towards the man, his face a mask of confusion. "I didn't steal any money and I didn't make any damn calls to the cops."

    "Well someone called," the other man beside the car hisses. "Because halfway through a fight the bartender upstairs comes running down saying that the cops are here."

    "And you immediately think I called them?" Tyler scoffs. "What crap logic is that?"

    "Because you're the only one who has beef with the boss, kid!" The man steps forward until he's standing beside his friend.

    The first man that spoke has spiky blond hair and the one who just spoke has a buzz cut with a darkened stubble growing out over his jaw.

    "It wasn't me!" Tyler yelled. "I've been here the whole night."

    "You've still got a phone on ya." The blond glares.

    "Did the cops catch anyone?" Tyler asks.

    "No, we all got out in time," Buzz-cut says. "Though the whole thing could have been missed if someone didn't rat us out."

    "Why the hell do you all think it was me?" Tyler growls. "It wasn't me. I didn't do shit! Why would I knowingly try and piss Carl off when I'm trying to get out?"

    "Who else would fuck off with his money and call the police on us?" Buzz-cut narrows his eyes on Tyler.

    Tyler sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers. I look back and forth between the unknown men and Tyler until the blond one notices me. He cackles out a laugh.

    "Jesus, Bullet," he laughs. "You're getting a girl now? With all this shit going on? You want to drag a chick into your mess?"

    "Fuck off, Jason," Tyler says. "Did Carl send you here then? Or is this another little independent field trip?"

    "Given the state of your face I'm guessing someone came before us," Buzz-cut murmurs.

    "Three guys beat me up when the money went," Tyler says and the two men laugh.

    "Well then we can call this the encore," Jason says and rolls up his sleeves. "Don't worry, we'll spare the girls. High school age, yeah? They're always the best."

    His eyes are full of amusement and a part of me knows that he's just messing around and taunting Tyler, but I can't help the sick feeling I get when he says that. I feel disgust as I look at him, and my heart drops a little when there's no reaction from Tyler.

    That is, until his fist comes out of nowhere and punches Jason in the face.

    Jason stumbles back and falls— he hadn't expected the hit at all. I stumble back with Tally and even Ethan moves away a step.

    "Motherfucker," Jason curses, blood oozing out of his nose. He stands up and wipes the blood off with his arm, but it still comes running down his face.

    Buzz-cut just smirks at Tyler. "You always ran off instinct."

    Tyler breathes heavily, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Leave me alone, Greg."

    "I don't want to mess with you," he says as Jason groans in pain behind him. "You're not a bad kid. But right now, everyone is siding against you."

    "Do you believe me?" Tyler asks. "Do you side with me?"

    Greg smirks again. "I side with the winning team." He takes a step forward and another and another until he is right in front of Tyler. He places his hands on Tyler's  shoulders tightly, fingers digging into flesh. "Remember. If it isn't you then someone else is taking money and calling the cops . . . and they're letting you take the blame without complaint. Which means you now have an enemy and they can claim complete deniability as long as you're around."

    Greg lets go of his shoulders and turns around, grabbing Jason's arm and dragging him forward. "See you around, Tyler," he calls over his shoulder as he walks away with Jason in tow.

    I let out a long breath when he's gone and Tyler curses while running his hand through his hair and kicking the front tire of his truck. Ethan put his hands behind his head and groans. "This is just perfect," he mutters.

    Tally slaps his shoulder. "Would you like to tell me what the hell all that was?"

Tyler looks over at her and sighs. "You're better off not knowing."

    "Oh, save me that bullshit, Superman," she says. "What the hell just happened? You just punched a guy."

    "I punched him or he punched me!".

    I just stand to the side and pull my sleeves over my hands. I feel stupid just standing there and waiting for someone else to do something. I want to have the courage to go up to them and demand to know what just happened. But that's not my role—it's Tally's. She's the one with the confidence and the guts to just speak her mind.

    She's got the confidence I want to have.

    Tyler turns to look at me. "It's fine. Really. We can just go, there's nothing to worry about."

    —The confidence I will have.

    I shake my head. "No."

    Tyler looks surprised and then his face falls. "Come on Franny, please. It's not that important."

    He walks closer to me until we're a foot apart.

    "No," I say again. "Tyler, you just punched a guy who threatened you and indirectly threatened us. You came walking into my house and asked me to help you. I accepted that you didn't want to tell me what was going on, but this is different, Tyler. Those men were right there, in front of us. And they could have easily hit us as well as you."

    Tyler closes his eyes and looks away. I place a hand on his cheek and the gesture feels so foreign and unknown that I almost lose confidence and move it away.

    "Tyler, if this is your world then I want to know everything about it before you even think about dragging me right into the middle," I say. "Call it returning the favor for patching you up the other night if that helps. But I need to know."

    He looks torn as he decides what to do. His skin is rough and warm under my hand.

    "Okay," he whispers. "Everything you need to know. Nothing more, nothing less."

    I nod and he pushes my hand away, walking past me without another look. I sigh.

    One step forward.

    Two steps back.

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