cry little sister → t. l. b.

02. we jumped outta a plane

I whirl around and there's a boy who looks at least eighteen standing, leaning against a motorbike in all black. He has a spiky bleach-blond mullet and a sly grin. I'm going to ignore him and keep walking, but he continues speaking.

"What's a little girl like you doing out here all by yourself on a night like this? There are a lot of evil men out here, you know. That's why Santa Carla is the murder capital of the world."

He's speaking in a way that makes my blood boil but somehow still manages to be charming. I don't really know what to say.

"What's your name, sweetie?" he asks.

I quickly come up with a fake name. "Emma. What's a guy like you doing out at night stalking girls?"

He shrugs his shoulders casually. "I'm not stalking. Merely spotting pretty ladies. And guess what? You win."

I cock my head. "What do you mean, I win? What do I win?"

"Me, of course, darling," he says with a smirk. "Wanna come for a ride? Or have you gotta be home for tea with mummy like a good little girly?"

"I'm not going for a ride with you, not in a million years. You're just a dirty old man."

"Me? A dirty old man? No way. I'm probably only a few years older than you, sweetie." He laughs coldly.

"Then stop calling me a little girl, you creep."

He cocks his head. "How old are you, then?"

"Sixteen," I say truthfully.

The man splutters with laughter. "You must think I'm stupid. You can't be older than fourteen! I'm eighteen."

I raise my eyebrows and fold my arms. "Then that makes you even more of a creep. Look, I've got places to be, so this conversation better get somewhere pretty soon or I'm gone."

"You haven't got anywhere to be," he says, taking a step towards me. "I saw you, over there." He nods in the direction of the beach. "Sitting. At least half an hour. That ain't somewhere to be."

My face goes scarlet. "Whatever. What do you want?"

"I want you," he whispers, "to get on my bike and we will go for a ride together. I'd like that very much. You find me attractive, don't you, Emma?"

I don't say anything, even though I do and he knows it.

"Come on. It'll be fun. Trust me, I'll go really slow over all the bumps so you don't fall off and hurt your pretty little face."

I sigh. Maybe I will go with him. What've I got to lose?

Suddenly I hear a roar and several other boys of a similar dark attire pull up on their motorbikes, gleaming in the streetlight.

One with long blond hair says: "David, we're gonna head back to the cave soon. Star's on her way. You coming?"

David looks at me expectantly, but I'm distracted. Did he say Star? If Star hangs out with this group, they can't be all that bad, can they? She seemed so lovely.

"Hello? Emma? Anyone home?" David says, tweaking my nose.

"Hey, lay off," I say, swatting his hand away. "Alright. I'll come. With ... you."

"Picking up the chicks, David?" one of the other boys calls, whistling at me. "You got a score with that one."

David rolls his eyes at his friends.

Suddenly, Star comes rushing up to us.

"Sorry I'm late," she's saying. "There was this girl ... " She trails off when she catches sight of me. "Afternoon?"

"Uh, Star, I'm pretty sure it's closer to midnight," says David. Then he catches on. "Wait." He turns to me. "Did she just call you Afternoon? I thought you said your name was Emma."

"It is, it is," I splutter, my face going red.

"Come on, David. Get a move on!" calls the boy with the long blond hair. Star had jumped onto his bike to ride there with him.

David stares at me a moment longer, a strange look on his face, then gets onto his bike and helps me clamber up, too.

What am I getting myself into?