Cyrus

Derick First Person Point Of View

The man was slight, shuffling beneath the streetlights, head down, sort of like he was attempting to become part of the shadows.

I didn't think much of it at first—some kid out way past curfew, right? But there was something in the way he walked that made me take notice.

He seemed.off. Something wasn't quite right

I squinted in order to see better, but before I could make it out, Marcus also spotted him.

"Hey, who's that?" he asked, already walking over to the kid with that grin that was always a sign of trouble.

The rest of them simply jumped in line, as always, lining themselves up without even considering it.

I lagged a bit, just observing us closing in. The kid hadn't spotted us or even looked up yet.

That's when I spotted him. He was wiping his eyes--he looked kinda pale, like he'd been crying? I wasn't sure from where I was.

Marcus reached him before anyone else and immediately leaped into his path, blocking him. "What's a cute little thing like you doing out here this late?"

I didn't have any idea who he was until Marcus spoke. It was Cyrus. He looked up with his big, wide eyes like he was trying not to cry, but you could see it plain as day.

He was beet red in the face and shaking, like he just wanted to disappear into thin air.

"Look at that," Tray laughed, pulling his hoodie back to expose Cyrus's face. "You're still under the influence from last evening, aren't you?"

I could just picture it—Cyrus freaking out. His eyes darting wildly, just trying to get out, but we had him trapped, over him and closing in.

The boys launched into their customary jokes, yelling and animating the otherwise quiet street.

They were very nasty in the way they spoke to him, but I did see that none of them actually touched him, just stood close enough to make him feel trapped. It was as if he was a toy they were playing with that evening.

I didn't leap in immediately. I sort of held back and just observed. And now and then, Cyrus's eye would drift my way. It wasn't that he was sizing Marcus or Tray out; it was strictly me. It was like he was simply looking to me in silence.

He was freaked out. And still.sobbing.

Marcus laughed loudly. "Yo, do me a favor," he exclaimed, throwing a spray can to Cyrus. "Create something amazing. Just a giant middle finger right there."

He grinned and pointed towards the wall.

Cyrus halted and regarded the can as if it were a trap. "I-I can't," he stuttered, struggling to form the words.

I interrupted before he could speak another word. "Chill out."

They all simply froze. They stared at me, completely confused. Marcus raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I was like, that's enough." I didn't yell, but my tone conveyed that they needed to take a step back. Marcus sighed, clearly frustrated but unwilling to escalate the situation.

"Whatever" he grumbled, stepping back. "Guess today's your lucky day, pretty boy."

The rest of the crew pushed in too, bumping against me a little and joking around before bouncing. Tray, who hung back until the end, grinned at me and laughed, "Want to bet Derick'd give you a ride, huh?"

Cyrus was completely silent, shivering a little and not even looking at them. He just seemed so small standing there, still clutching the can like he didn't know what to do with it.

I lingered behind the group, giving Cyrus one last look. His eyes met mine again, still full of fear and something else I couldn't place. Part of me wanted to ask why he'd been crying, to just say something.

But I never uttered those exact words.

I remounted my bike, put on my helmet, and cranked the engine to life. I glanced back over my shoulder and rode away.

Cyrus was standing there, looking after me, his expression unreadable.

I dumped him, left him dangling out there under the streetlights.

I floored it on the gas with that surge of adrenalin coursing through my system as I sped down the highway with the crew struggling to keep pace.

But I had some other stuff going on. I made a sharp left and sped down this alleyway, tires squealing on the asphalt.

Marcus and Tray couldn't catch up to me now, not with me being as familiar with these streets as I was. I made another sharp turn, racing through the block to lose them.

When I was certain I’d lost them, I relaxed and made my way back to where I’d left Cyrus.

I don't know why, but him just standing there, shaking and crying like that, it really got to me. He just didn't belong out here, not like that. Not with us.

I continued until I could see him again, still walking slow, his back hunched over like he was bearing the weight of the world.

I rode my bike over to where he was and jumped down from it.

"Hey!" I yelled, but he just kept walking. Didn't even look back. I could see his shoulders stiffen like he'd heard me, though. "Hey," I called, somewhat louder now, hurrying to catch up to him. "What on earth is wrong with you?"