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“Yeah, drag,” Tyler said again, revving his engine. “Let’s race. You and me.”
“You’re the angry guy from the other night. The one with ketchup on his face.”
“You’re gonna have ketchup on your face!”
“Yeah, I don’t know what that means.”
“Let’s go. Let’s race.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. Let’s go.”
Romeo looked over Tyler’s car. “In that piece of junk?”
“Better than yours.”
“It’s not mine.”
“I don’t care whose it is. We’re racing.”
Romeo looked in his rear view. They were blocking traffic. Horns were honking and cars were backing up. He could tell people behind him were getting agitated.
“Ok, sure, let’s race.”
Tyler smiled then counted it down. Fingers high in the air. “Three, two, one!” Then he grabbed the wheel and stomped on the gas. His old beater of a Mustang took off pretty fast and it shot down the street.
Romeo on the other hand just sat there. He never had any intention of racing. And when Tyler took off he just watched him go. Then he pulled out at a normal speed and headed for that spot, just past the bar. The one about halfway up the next block.
As Romeo pulled in he could hear the tires screech. Once Tyler realized Romeo wasn’t behind him he slammed on his brakes, jerked his car into reverse and floored it backwards down the street. Skidding to stop a few feet from Romeo and cutting off a middle aged man in a Jeep Cherokee.
The guy in the Jeep laid on his horn. “Hey! Are you crazy? You almost hit me! Move your car!”
Tyler didn’t care. He jumped out, flipped off the Jeep and ran toward Romeo .
“That’s it. I’m calling the cops!” Jeep man yelled as he eased his car into oncoming traffic and around the Mustang.
Tyler caught up to Romeo on the sidewalk. “Going somewhere?”
“Dude, what is your problem?”
“You’re my problem.”
“Yo. You really don’t want to do this.”
“Yeah I do,” said Tyler. Then he took a swing at Romeo, who easily dodged it.
Tyler wasn’t used to that. He was a bully and like all bullies he tended to pick on weak targets. So when he threw a punch, usually at some scared runt half his size, the punch generally landed.
Tyler regrouped and charged. Romeo deftly sidestepped and pushed him at an angle, deflecting him into a messy pile of garbage.
Tyler struggled to get to his feet. The odd shaped mound left no real purchase for him to get his footing. When he finally got his ground he was pissed.“Get him!”
Tyler had been riding with Gary Green Shirt, whose shirt today was sort of an electric blue, and his brother, who, as it so happened, also favored that same kind of bright, neon-esque, road worker type t-shirt. Only his was orange. The two of them grabbed Romeo, a tight grip on each of his arms.
Now, in the second or so he stood there Romeo instinctively thought of at least a dozen ways of forcing them to let go. At least half of which ended with them badly busted up. Leaving them with a broken arm, shattered kneecap, fractured rib… In Romeo’s mind was a veritable dinner menu of self defense. Selections he could pick and choose from at will.
Then he thought of Ant and wondered how’d she feel about him if he beat up his brother. Not to mention his t-shirt wearing toadies. So instead, he did noth
