♢♡Craig♡♢

Jonathan was real keen in bringing me into town. Luke stayed behind to talk to some kids his grade, while Brock fell into step next to us. "Where ya from, Craig? Ya never said" Brock asks, messing up his hair. Now, why on earth would he do that? Oh, nevermind. "London, England"

"Really? All da way 'cross the sea?" Jonathan gawks, eyes alight with intrest. "Uh-huh. It's quite colder over there, though. A lot more slush and rain" I explain, enjoying the sound of my shoes tapping against the cobbled road. "Gee, I've never been outta this town" Jonathan says, a grin on his face. "I have! I came from the east wit' my family" Brock says proudly, ah, that explains his accent.

I look down the road and spot a tall man standing there, smoking. He's the only one out right now. It's cloudy, about to rain, and most men are out working. Not out smoking. "Jonathan, who may that be?" I ask, nodding towards the man. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and dissapears down a beaten path alongside the river.

Brock sighs and Jonathan snorts, rolling his eyes. "That there's Tyler Wilde" He says, grabbing my jacket and steering me away from the bridge. "'E's around our age but 'e can't read, can't write, doesn't know nothin'. Common trash, I suppose. He lives around 'ere, on the street" Jonathan continues on. Gee, this guy seems nasty.

"Wait, there's houses down there? That path ain't near big enough for a carriage nor a car to go down" I point out, looking between the two boys at my sides. "Nah, he lives on the street" Brock says quietly, pushing open the door to the sweet shop. "In what house, though? I saw none" I say, glancing around the store before looking back at Brock. "'E's 'omeless, Craig" Jonathan says.

"Oh. Oh my. But he's white! How doesn't he have enough cash?" I ask, my eyebrows drawing together. Brock picks up a candy and rubs his nose on the back of his hand. He looks behind me at Jonathan, looks back at me, and shrugs. "Some questions are best left unanswered"

"No really! I wanna know!" I gasp, but Jonathan grabs the back of my neck and steers me towards the sweets. I hate being touched, I just about slap him away, but I don't. "My pa's got strong feelin's about that kid. Says me 'n Luke can't talk to 'im" He tells me, but that isn't the answer I'm looking for. "I bet you shouldn't either. He ain't a good man, I bet your father would say the same thing" Brock pipes up, handing me a lollypop.

"Jus' get your sweets and we should go, class'll be startin' up soon" He says, grabbing a bag of taffy and walking up to the counter. The man takes them and asks for a nickel. I slowly put down the lolly pop and my eyebrows draw together. "Jonathan, you're supposed to be my guide. Tell me why a white man is living on the streets this instant." I snap, the counter man looks up at me before quickly hurrying away. We take out candy.

I can see Jonathan visibly gritting his teeth, but he sighs and we walk back onto the street. It's begun to rain now and we pick up our pace. "Jus' tell 'im, Jon" Brock sighs, stuffing his taffy in his pocket. Jonathan looks down the beaten path and juts his chin at Tyler, who's still smoking, not bothered by the rain at all. Usually it's hard to see someone though misty Spring rain, but the dark smoke and clothing makes his large frame stick out among the grey. "That man right there is a nigger-lovin' faggot, and 'is parents kicked 'im out for it. Good folks, they are"