James' POV

Street lamps lit up the sides of the dark road as my car sped down a nearly empty highway. Occasionally, other cars would pass, but the streets were relatively quiet tonight. It was late, probably sometime around midnight, but I was too determined and focused to keep driving until I made it to Tulsa, Oklahoma. The trip would take about twenty hours, almost a full day, if I continued driving without stopping somewhere. Apart of me couldn't believe I was possibly throwing my future away for some girl, but the other part of me knew that Diana wasn't just 'some girl.' She was way more than that; she was special. From the day that we first met, when I saved her from that cruel cop in the alleyway beside the coffee house I worked at, I was immediately drawn to her. Her personality was charming and her humor was witty. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that Diana and I would become friends, possibly even more one day.

"Hey James, could ya take the trash out?" My managed shouted from across the kitchen as I brought in a bin of dirty dishes from customers' tables. Since I was only sixteen, the only job I was offered at this coffee house was busboy, but I gratefully accepted the task since it still paid money. In all honesty, I didn't mind the job. I liked knowing that I had something to look forward to once I worked hard enough for a promotion.

I brought the heavy bin over to the sink in the small kitchen. I placed the dishes inside the sink, the glass clinked together and made loud noises. I glanced over my shoulder and replied to my manager, "You got it, boss."

I quickly began washing the plates and silverware with soap and water before drying them with a rag, placing them into their original spots in the cabinets and drawers. I walked over to the trash can in the corner of the kitchen and pulled the filled bag out, tying the opening into a knot, and holding the bag at my side. I made my way over to the side door in the kitchen that led directly into the small alleyway in between the coffee house and the next building over. When I stepped outside, I heard fighting coming from the entrance of the alley.

"What did I tell you last time about vandalizing?" A tall, slightly overweight police officer asked a small, brunette girl. She held a black spray paint bottle in her hands and had an uninterested expression on her face.

I decided to ignore the scene, continuing with my initial chore, and tossing the trash bag into the garbage bin. It was none of my business to get involved in her problems anyway. The police were always harsher on the poor teenagers here, but everything is harsh for everyone in New York.

"To be honest, I'm not really sure," the girl spoke. She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and stared the cop directly in his icy eyes, challenging him. I was surprised by her confidence, or maybe it was arrogance. "And I don't give a fuck either," she remarked with a click of her tongue. Her strong language caught me and the officer off guard. I glanced her way with wide eyes, curious as to what was going to happen next.

The cop narrowed his eyes at the girl, who showed no falter in her glare or hints of nervousness. He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and pulled her forward, so the two of them were now face to face. "You listen to me, ya little hood rat. This better be the last time I see you on this side of town."

The girl rolled her dark, brown eyes and shot daggers into his head as she replied, "Or what?" She threatened, slightly chuckling. Her unbothered nature surprised me. I expected her to back down but she didn't.

The cop narrowed his eyes at her, and clipped the handcuffs in his hand back onto his belt. "You better watch your mouth, kid."

"I'm not afraid of you," she spat. Her tone was harsh and full of hatred. Each word was laced with venom as she stared him down with equal—or not more—distaste towards the officer.

The man in the uniform shoved her into the brick wall behind her with. Her back crashed into the bricks with force, probably knocking the wind out of her. The girl pushed herself forward and off the wall, showing no sign of fear. The police officer scowled and became angrier with her uncaring demeanor. He took one look at the unfazed girl before pulling his arm back and punching her in her face. The girl stumbled back into the brick wall again, trapped between the building and the cop. Her hand shot to the side of her face where she had been hit. Blood rushed to her cheeks immediately from the impact. I stood by watching the scene unfold, petrified with what I saw. I wasn't sure whether I should turn my back away from the girl and pretend I didn't see anything, or stand up for her and try and help out.

"That the best ya got?" The girl taunted. She continued to antagonize the cop instead of just surrendering. It almost seemed like she wanted a fight.

The police officer rolled his eyes and took another shot at the girl, punching her in the jaw this time. Once again, the girl was shoved back into the wall by the amount of force she was just hit with. Her skin split open by the blow and blood began to surface on her face. Her cries for pain turned into cocky laughter as the cop hit her again and again. I couldn't watch this any longer, so without hesitation I began to make my way down the alleyway. I pulled out a switchblade from my back pocket and flipped it open, holding the knife at my side. When I reached the the girl, her mouth was bleeding and the cut along her jawline increased in size. Blood seeped into the navy t-shirt she was wearing, darkening the color even more. The police officer paid no attention to me as he continued to beat the girl.

"Hey!" I shouted to get his attention. The police officer glanced over at me and dropped his fist. He still held onto the girl's collar on her t-shirt with his other hand though, keeping a tight grasp so she wouldn't runaway.

The cop sighed and shot me a threatening look. "Get lost, son. This doesn't involve you," he said. The girl rolled her head to the side lazily, glancing at me up and down before smirking. My lips twitched upward into a small smile.

I turned my focus back to the police officer and held up my blade towards him. "No," I argued. "I think you better get out here."

The cop laughed in my face. He dropped his hold on the girl and turned to face me directly. He placed one hand on his gun holster and gave me a look. "Come on. I'm not lookin' for trouble with ya," he said.

I hated how corrupt the cops around here were becoming. It was sickening.

"All I'm askin' is for you to leave the girl alone," I said. "I doubt the NYPD would like to hear about one of their cops abusin' their power." The officer took a quick moment to think, debating his options internally, before removing his hand from his holster. He sent me a curt nod and turned around, pushing the girl back into the wall as he walked away.

"Yeah, fuck you too," the girl shouted at him. Luckily, he ignored her continued to leave.

"Are you okay?" I asked the girl. Her face had been beaten pretty bad and the bloody and bruises that were already forming didn't help.

The girl rolled her eyes and dusted off her clothes. "I didn't need your help," she said, meeting my eyes. "I was handlin' that just fine."

I scoffed and switched my blade back so it was hidden again. "I can tell," I remarked sarcastically. The girl ignored my comment and began to pick up her bottles of spray paint that were on the ground. She shoved each can into her backpack before throwing the bag over her shoulders. "Ya know, you should really watch your mouth when you talk to cops. Seems like there aren't many good ones around here these days."

She chuckled softly. "You could say that again," she muttered to herself. I could tell that she could care less about my advice.

"I'm James by the way," I introduced myself. "James Carson."

The girl paused and looked at me. "Diana Westbrook," she replied.

"Why don't you come inside?" I asked, nodding towards the coffee house. "There's a bathroom that you could cleanup in."

Diana shrugged and nodded. "Alright," she said.

I sent her a smile and we began to walk down the alley and towards the front of the building. I handed her my switchblade and said, "Take this. You'll probably need it more than I do." Diana took the blade out of my hand and began to examine it. She shoved it in the back pocket of her jeans before thanking me. "How do you like your coffee?" I asked. "It's on the house."

Diana smirked. "Black."