When Kylo Johnson - an aspiring dancer and college students finally gets the opportunity of a lifetime to attend his dream school in the bustling city of New York City. After a night of unfortunate events he finds himself in the hands of the city's...
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"PEOPLE DIED . . . "
My words seemed to fly in one of Semaj's ears and out the other just as quickly as they left my lips. His eyes are too busy on the countless cameras and news reporters posted around the quad trying to get the latest scoop from students. I couldn't help but feel a pit in the bottom of my stomach, a gut-retching sensation that made me want to throw up the more I walked. I can only think about one thing — one man.
Did I help hide a murderer?
Did I hide a fucking murderer under my bed? Because I'm pretty sure that's a crime, like a pretty big one if I'm not mistaken. I can't go to prison those inmates would have a field day with me, and those jumpsuits are not flattering at all and how many retakes do we get with our mugshot I need at least three tries and if it's really cute can I print it out?
"Yo, Kylo," Semaj waves his hands in my face and suddenly I'm snapped out of my thoughts and not heading to prison anymore. "you've been zoning out all morning are you okay?"
"Am I okay? People died Semaj." I told him again in case the numerous cameras and news outlets around us didn't remind him.
His dark eyes rolled. "Niggas die every day," he casually shrugged his shoulders at me. It's times like this that I'm reminded just how different Semaj's and my upbringing were despite the many similarities we share. He grew up in Chicago, and he tells me all the time about the crime he witnessed from when he was a child until now so of course he's a little more desensitized to this. Meanwhile, I grew up in a small suburb in Arizona with a mom who did everything in her power to shield me from the violence of the world. I'm not used to this.
"and honestly the people dying aren't even the most fucked part in all of this." he continued.
I raised a brow at him.
"It's how the people were supposedly killed that Friday night and we didn't find out until today, Monday morning. Why keep something like that under wraps for so long? Shit is weird."
"Maybe because the victims were locals. Maybe it was hard to identify them." I shrugged, the two of us taking a seat on a nearby bench. I remove my backpack from behind me and sit it on my lap, my chin resting against the zipper.
