Reece

"You wanna try calling Ashley again?" Dennis asked, as Kenzie came to another red light.

Kenzie briefly looked over at Dennis, rolling his eyes and then just focusing on the road in front of him, one hand on the wheel. "He ain't answer the third time, I don't think a fourth or fifth is gonna miraculously make the negro answer his phone."

"Maybe he's just getting ready," I said from the backseat. Dennis had said he'd sit in the back, but I'd rather literally make sweet love to a grenade than sit in the front seat in a car with Kenzie again.

"He does think he some pretty boy," Kenzie threw. "All he do is wastes everyone time in the morning singing and shit in the shower, listening to Rihanna."

"Don't be knocking Ri," Dennis barked. "That's the lil wifiey just in case this gay thing don't work out."

Kenzie threw him a side-eye. "Negro, Rihanna wouldn't touch yo dick with a pole taped to another long ass pole."

I saw Dennis shrugged. "You don't know."

"I do know," he replied. "Shit, she ain't answer none of my DMs on twitter with me politely asking to eat her ass."

"Define....... politely?" I blurted.

Kenzie looked back as the light turned green. "Salutations, Ms. Robyn Fenty, how are you doing on this mighty fine evening? I was wondering, if you had enough time out for your busy schedule, that you would indulge me for an hour or two so I could lick that ass up." He started driving. "And she just left a brother on read."

"The nerve," Dennis mumbled, dryly.

"I know!" Kenzie blasted back, either too high to not sense the sarcasm or just didn't care for it altogether.

"I hope Ashley is okay," Dennis muttered, staring out the window at the street lights as we zipped down the highway.

I was starting to worry about Ashley too. He seemed the type to answer his phone when you called. This dance seemed important to Dennis and I doubt he'd miss it purposefully.

I hadn't thought of going to the dance thing, but Kenzie told me to get in the car and that there was no time to drop me wherever I needed to go. So, here I sat. 

It smelled like weed and flaming hot Cheetos. Kenzie was shuffling through an endless mix of rap songs, from some guy named Future and another named Travis Scott. Honestly, they all just sounded like they were mumbling to me. Which I wasn't against, but he acted as though it was composed by Beethoven.

"Do you got broads in Atlanta?" Kenzie asked as the only song I even marginally recognized, Panda, came on.

I shrugged my shoulders, even though I knew he wouldn't see it. "I got a few bad bitches somewhere up there."

Kenzie looked at me through the rearview mirror. "Hey, we don't refer to women as bitches in this vehicle," he barked. Eyes refining down to just narrowed lines.

I gulped. "O-oh. Sorry man."

"This is my mom's car, man," he stressed, "use the term hoes or biddies at least until we in the parking lot or some shit. Have some decorum, Rich Tea Cracker."

"You know," I said, almost instantly regretting it, "cracker is almost just as offensive as the n-word."

The car screamed with a screeched. My body yucked forward, I would've sailed out of the front windshield if I hadn't had a seatbelt on. The both of them angled their heads between the seats in the front, with varying degrees of incredulity springing from their faces.

Kenzie cleared his throat. "Is that some bad joke that you were testing the waters with, or do you somehow think that nigga – which is we – and cracker – which is you – have the same kind of weight behind them?"

I swallowed. I swallowed so hard, I think I tore my throat open. "Is there an answer other than 'I was joking' that would fit here?"

"Why don't we ask Mr. Pistol?" Kenzie snapped. "I'm sure he has a lot to say on the subject matter."

I held up my hands and sank into the seat. "Sorry if I offended you."

Dennis turned away first, not saying anything. Kenzie stared for a moment longer. "And I was just starting to like you, Billy Ray Cyrus." He started the car again and started driving again, just as my phone rang.

I breathed. A welcomed distraction.

 I fished it out of my pocket and hurried it to my ears. "Dec have you heard from Ashley?"

There was a moment of silence. "My day was okay, did some shopping, a bit of video games, jerked off  before bowling with the boys thanks for asking, concerned best friend."

"Shit," I mumbled, half-laughing. "Sorry, Dec, it's just that no one has heard from Ashley for a while."

"Turn on your black boy locator or something then."

"That was racist in ways I don't think I have the time to explain to you right now," I answered. Kenzie looked back again and I smiled awkwardly, waving the comment off. "Is there a particular reason we're chatting right now?"

"Preston is beyond pissed, dude," he said. "He's out for blood."

I rolled my eyes so very fast. "Preston can eat my left ass cheek for lunch and then the right for dinner before munching on my pink, tight hole for desert."

".......Tight?"

"Look," I blurted, "I don't care what Preston's problem is – at the moment, that is, he's got serious issues that he should work out with a tv doctor – I'm on my way to a play or something."

"It's a dance recital," Dennis noted.

"A dance recital," I droned. "For black...youths or something."

"Trendy," Declan replied. "Wait. Was that Competition just now?"

"Dennis, yeah." I coughed and shifted in the seat. "We're on better terms now."

...

...

...

"Dec?"

"Yeah, um, great, I guess," he said, clearing his throat. "Look, where are you right now?"

"Um," I looked out the window. "We're just downtown, by Marie's Shoe Place." We came to another red light.

"Well, avoid Blue Avenue, there's a road black going on," he said. "Fastest way to get to the where he's are performing is by Lester Street."

"Thanks," I paused. "Wait. How do you know where we're going?" I asked. "How do you even know I was with them?"

"I'm your bestie," Dec laughed. "It's my job to keep your ass safe and know what you're doing at all times."

"I don't need a guardian angel," I responded. "Got Ashley to hover over me now."

"If you ever find him," Dec coughed.

"Funny, you cracker," I spat back.

I heard Kenzie snort. "I like you again."

"I'm judging you so hard right now," Declan said from the other line. "You're like a child who's being corrupted before my very eyes."

"I haven't been a child since I was fifteen when I 69'd with Eric Martin in the back of my dad's convertible," came my reply. "And when since did you become all about morals?"

"When you lost every single one of yours," he responded. "I mean. You're actually in love with Ashley." He almost sounded like he was about to throw up. "He's-"

"Black?" I cut in. "That raci-"

"Poor!" Dec shouted. "He's literally the Jack to your Rose, if Jack and Rose were gay, tall and verse."

I hadn't even noticed Kenzie started driving again. "Take a left onto Lester Street," I said. "Blue Avenue is blocked off."

"Aye, aye," the driver muttered and turned right.

I returned to Declan. "Look, Dec. I have to call you back. Like, after tonight."

"Yeah, sure."

"If you somehow hear from Ashley or Lola or anybody, let me know." Something felt...off. "I'm kind of scared that he's in trouble."

"Will do," he said and hung up the phone.

"Don't worry about my brother," Kenzie said after a few moments of silence. "He probably in some dark room listening to The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill and crying about how he gotta choose between you and Dee."

I went to laugh at the joke, if not just because I laughed at all of Kenzie's jokes in fear he'd gut me but because I actually got that reference , but a police car siren sounded.

I looked behind us. Blue and Red lights were flashing.

"Fuck," Kenzie muttered, rubbing his eyes with his palms, head jelling with the headrest. "Just what I need tonight."

He pulled over and we waited. And waited. Until there was a tap on Kenzie's window. He rolled it down and a white cop with shades on, chewing some gum angled his head inside.

"Goodnight gentlemen," The officer greeted, leaning against the half cracked window. "I'm Officer Ferguson and I don't know if you guys have realized this, but you have a tail light out."

"Well gosh darn-it, gee willikers" Kenzie responded, putting on his version of a white man's voice, "I knew I forgot to do something after picking my children up from spin class and dropping my wife off at her book club meeting."

"Yo, chill, Kenzie," Dennis said sighing, he stretched himself over to see the cop better. "We didn't realize it, officer, we're sorry."

"Can I see your license and registration please?" the cop asked.

"Can I see yours?" Kenzie asked him and I already knew this was going to be a long night. "Are we exchanging numbers too? You want me to take you on a date, young man? I know you staring at these lips underneath those glasses of yours."

I couldn't' see behind the officer's shades, but the straight line that formed his lip pretty much said enough. "License and registration, please."

"It's in the compartment," Kenzie said, looking over at Dennis. "I should probably inform you that a legal firearm is also in the there too."

The mood changed after that. The officer's face paled just a bit, and whatever gum he had been chewing, he spat to the side. "Okay, step out the vehicle so, I can make sure that the weapon is legal please?"

Kenzie shook his head, braids flapping. "Why we gotta step out the vehicle for you to verify that shit?" he asked him, and I, being as quiet as a beetle in the backseat, thought the same thing.

"I don't want you to take out the gun," the officer said slowly. "I will go into the compartment myself and get your license and registration and the license you have for the firearm."

"Let's just do what he says," Dennis mumbled and opened his door.

I followed suit. Kenzie said some more words to the cop that I didn't hear, but soon, his door opened too and he was muttering curses as he walked over to where we were.

"This is some bullshit," he mumbled, as the cop got into the car and started his search.

"That gun is legal right, Kenzie?" Dennis asked, looking over at him, skeptical.

"Yeah."

 Dennis and I stared still. Kenzie rolled his eyes. "It's legal, Frank and Elton."

"Cause we just narrowly got you out of prison," Dennis replied. He poked Kenzie in the chest. "You really need to find a legal job."

"And you need to wax yo eyebrows, but you don't see me getting on your case 'bout it," Kenzie barked at him.

"Okay guys," I said, and they both threw me crazy hard gazes. "Maybe we should just wait, let him search and go."

"Fine," Kenzie said.

"Okay gentlemen," the cop said, coming out of the car. "The gun is legal." Kenzie stuck is tongue out. "But the broken taillight still isn't." He quickly jammed it back into his mouth. "I'm going to have to give you a ticket"

"Oh, come on," I blurted. "It's just a broken tail light. Can't we get a warning or something?"

"Sir, the law is the law," he said, coming around. He looked over Kenzie and Dennis. "Who is the owner of the car?"

"Run the plates, motherfucker," Kenzie responded, all hostility, all anger. "I ain't co-operating for shit."

"Sir, there is no need for that kind of language," the police officer responded. "Don't make me cuff you."

"For what!?" Kenzie shouted him, hands to the sky. "Hand cuff me for what?"

I didn't like the feeling that was sinking into my stomach. "Kenzie, maybe calm down, bro," Dennis said, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was promptly shaken off.

"Nah son!" Kenzie roared and pointed at the officer, "Handcuff me for what? I ain't assault you, I'm not resisting no arrest – this ain't no DUI – all I said was motherfucker!"

"Sir, if you keep acting in a hostile way, I'm going to have to cuff you!" the cop shouted.

"How about I call my fucking lawyer and I sue your ass," Kenzie said and went to reach into his pocket.

The officer pulled his gun. "Sir! Do not reach into your pocket!"

"I'm getting gmy phone, nigga, chill!" Kenzie shouted.

"Sir!"

Kenzie reached down.

A shot fired.

Kenzie fell against the car door and slid downward.

"Kenzie!" Dennis shouted and rush to kneel beside him and checked his neck, maybe for a pulse. I don't' know. I don't know. I don't know. I couldn't fucking move.

Dennis shot to his feet and moved an inch toward the cop "What the-"

Another shot.

Dennis fell to the ground. The hard ground.

I slipped forward and the cop pointed his gun at me, but he didn't pull the trigger.

His hands were shaking. "Shots fired!" he said into his com. "Fuck. Jesus. Fuck. Shots fired. I need a bus." He ran back to his cruiser and went inside.

I was fucking not able to move any part of my body but my neck. I angled it down at Dennis, who was on the floor in front of me. Blood was starting to ooze out from under his white shirt and I couldn't help but notice how much it looked like the wine that was spilled on this shirt at the party.

"Fuck me." My head shot to Kenzie, who was propped up against the car. "That fucking hurt."

I rushed over, and fell to my knees. I didn't see any blood coming through his shirt. ""You okay, Kenzie?"

"That depends," he groaned. "Do you see those demons singing I Will Always Love You behind you right now?"

I didn't have to look back. "No."

"Then stop asking me fucking dumb ass questions!" he shouted groaning, holding his chest with both his hands. He ripped his shirt to reveal a blue vest, with a bullet hole neat the heart. "I'm a drug lord, you think my ass ain't wearing a vest?" His eyes raced to Dennis and I followed suit. "Check on him!"

I scrambled over, tripping over my knees ruining my pants, kicking up dirt, scraping my elbows.

Dennis's eyes kept opening and closing. Opening and closing. Too slow to be blinking. I shook him. "Dennis, you gotta stay awake!"

"Dee!" Kenzie shouted from by the car. "If you die I swear to God, I'm burning this city the fuck down, so for the sake," he groaned, "of New York, you better keep yo ass alive."

I could hear sirens in the distance.

"Dennis," I called again. His face had already started losing its light brown color. "You gotta stay awake."

I rested a hand on his wound, but the blood just gushed around. Good Lord, wasit warm. Jesus. Jesus Christ.  "Dennis come on man."

He coughed and blood squirted out of his mouth like a broke faucet. Fuuuck.

"Angled his head up!" Kenzie commanded.

I shifted myself behind him and rested his head in my lap.

And then his eyes opened, and he stared up at me. "Ashley," he said, barely a whisper, barely a mumble, barely words at all. "Ashley, Ashley," he coughed up more blood as his eyes glazed over and to a close, "Ashley, Ashley, Ashley."