Guns and Mirrors

THIRTY-ONE

♕Harley Anderson♕

Despite the warmth that I had been feeling throughout the day, the slight- ever so there- breeze that whistles every now and then racks shivers up my spine. However, I didn't think to bring a jacket with me to the track with it having been warm when I left the apartment. I'm beginning to regret it now. All that I have on is a pair of jeans- that are ripped which makes them even less protective against the cold- and a simple pink tank top. Not even the boots I have on are enabling my feet to keep me warm.

As I impatiently wait for the races to begin, I absentmindedly trace patterns into the sand with my foot. Ants scatter away in a panic, running away from my foot and knock into each other and I find some kind of amusement in that. When I hear a girl let out a loud laugh, I look up and watch as a short girl with a red bob is tossed over the shoulder by some guy before he walks away with her playfully cussing him out. Without Katalina here, I don't have anyone to really talk to given the fact that I make a point of not talking to many people at the track. The less drama, the better. However, I do make a point of listening to people's conversations so as to try hear for anything useful- I haven't heard anything concerning.

Sighing, I pull my hair up into a messy bun on my head and tie it. My hair is no longer as short with it being near my shoulder blades now and my dark roots really visible. I make a mental note to do a touch up as soon as possible.

"You look a little lonely without Katalina by your side." A familiar voice says and I snap my head to the side to see Cyrus Reynald walking to me. He is wearing a brown jacket over a cream shirt that's paired with blue jeans and he casually rests his hands in the pockets of it. Clenching my jaw tightly, I eye him up and down. He looks so clean-shaven and... ordinary. I can't believe that this man standing in front of me is a leader in a gang yet is the boy I grew up with. The attempt at a joke does not go unnoticed but I choose not to really acknowledge it.

"And I'm surprised to see you at all." I respond. "I sometimes forget you're even a part of this gang."

For some reason, Cyrus seems to take that as an invitation to take a seat next to me on the hood of my car. I almost tell him to get off, to go away. But a part of me tells me to leave it. What harm can just sitting next to him do?

"It almost sounds like you want to see me." He muses, sending a smile my way and I roll my eyes.

"Trust me when I say that is not the case." Looking away, I continue to watch various people bustle about. I notice a few Slither members and a few Kings members and I wonder if they know I'm on their side.

"I've been in Pittsburgh." He suddenly blurts and I look at him with a frown.

"You don't need to explain anything to me. I'm the last person who cares."

He looks down at his feet as he crosses one over the other before nodding his head. Cyrus looks out to the crowd, eyes moving about. "I know," he admits, "but I felt like telling you something anyway."

"I'm sure Percy must have missed you." I bite sarcastically, pushing a smile onto my face. Cyrus makes a point of ignoring it by looking away and I do the same. With my snarky remark, I was expecting him to have walked away already.

"She was with me. In fact, she's still there." He replies, not a moment later, and I'm surprised that he's even answered my somewhat question. Frowning, I glance down at my shoes while wondering if this is what Katalina and Enrique meant when they said that me being related to Cyrus puts me at an advantage because here he is, telling me something I didn't really ask. And... perhaps I should dig more. It would be easy- just get him talking with the fake idea that I care about him and not the words he says.