Chapter 23 I need a new route to school

Chapter 23 I need a new route to school
Kael’s POV
I woke up starving as fk.
Stomach felt like it was actively tryna digest my spine from the inside. I stared at the ceiling, counting cracks like they’d magically turn into breakfast if I believed hard enough. Last night’s dinner replayed in my head: half a sandwich. That was it. That was all I had yesterday.

I sat up, dragging a hand down my face, and immediately regretted it because my stomach growled so loud it sounded like a threat.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “I hear you, shut the hell up.”
Right on cue, my door slammed open.

“GOOD MORNING, KAELIEEEE－”

I grabbed my pillow and hurled it.
Mina ducked. Too damn easily. Like she’d been practicing.

“Missed!” she sang, hopping in anyway. Already in her uniform, hair half-done, shoes mismatched like she dressed blind. She looked way too awake for eight in the morning.
“You loud as hell,” I groaned.
She grinned, not bothered one bit. “You love me.”
“I tolerate your a,” I corrected.

She climbed on the edge of my bed like she owned the damn thing. “And you are crusty. You smell like motor oil.”
“Get out.”
“Nope.” She squinted at me. “ Wow. You look rough. Did you cry yourself to sleep again, Kaelie-bear?”

I sat up straighter. “Say that shit again and I’ll sell your stuffed rabbit.”
Her gasp was dramatic as hell. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me, Mini.”

She scowled. “Don’t call me that.”
“You call me Kaelie.”
“That’s different.”

I swung my legs off the bed and stood, stretching till my back cracked. Mina wrinkled her nose.
“You’re gross.”
“You short.”

She tried to kick my shin. Missed.
She stuck her tongue out and shoved me toward the bathroom. “Go shower. You are gonna be late. I’ll make you toast.”
My stomach perked up quick.

“…With peanut butter?” I asked, tryna sound casual.
She grinned. “If you admit I’m your favorite person.”
I paused. “…Fine. You my favorite person.”
She pumped her fist. “Victory!”

By the time I came back out, hair damp, uniform half-on, Mina was already sitting at the table swinging her legs. There was exactly one slice of toast, cut in half.

I stared at it. She stared back.
“You get half,” she said firmly.
“You evil as shit.”
She grinned.
I ate it anyway. Barely dented the hunger.

We got ready like always; me tying her shoes ‘cause she refused to do it “the boring way,” her fixing my collar, muttering how I always look like a delinquent no matter what. I helped braid her hair, fingers clumsy but careful. She complained the whole time.

“You’re pulling.”
“I’m braiding.”
“Same thing.”
I shoved a piece of toast in her mouth to shut her up.
“I can drop you at school,” I said, grabbing my jacket.

She froze.
Then slowly turned.

“I’d rather walk into traffic than get on that death trap of a bicycle. You ride like you’re trying to challenge death.”
I scoffed. “I’m a great rider.”
“You jumped three stairs last week.”
“They deserved it.”
She grabbed her bag. “Nope. I choose life.”

I flicked her forehead lightly. She squeaked and chased me down the hall, tiny legs pumping like her life depended on it. She didn’t catch me.
I snorted, then promptly tripped over absolutely nothing and slammed into the wall.

She laughed so hard she had to lean on the door.
“Shut up,” I barked, pointing at her. “I slipped strategically.”
She waved as she ran off. “Don’t die, Kaelie!”
“No promises!”
I grabbed my skateboard instead of the bicycle- scarred red deck, chipped edges, stickers peeling off, wheels worn thin, black grip tape peeling like it was held together by spite alone. It looked dangerous… perfect.

Thrasher was strapped across my back, shovel handle peeking over my shoulder like a warning sign. I tugged my white shirt half-untucked, maroon trousers sitting low like I dared someone to comment, and kicked off.

The streets blurred.
I jumped curbs. Slid rails. Nearly clipped an old man who yelled something creative about my existence. I veered past Mrs. Adams’ corn stand and snatched a corn like it was tradition.

“KAEL!” she shrieked.
“BORROWIN’!” I shouted, already gone.
Then I took a shortcut.

The alley bent sharp behind the shuttered laundromat, concrete cracked like broken teeth, graffiti crawling up the walls like it was alive. My board rattled beneath my feet as I carved the corner and that’s when they stepped out.
Three of em’.

I slammed my foot down, board screeching as I skidded sideways, barely stopping before I crashed straight into the chest of the big one. Tall, shoulders wide, wearing the colors of Blackridge High School; grey trousers, white shirt half-untucked, black tie hanging loose like a threat.

Blackridge. Fan-fkin-tastic.

Ravenhill and Blackridge been at each other’s throats since like forever. Old blood, old grudges. Someone stabbed someone. Someone burned someone’s bike. No one remembered who started it, just that it never stopped.

My fingers curled around the strap of Thrasher on my back.
The guy on the left twirled a metal baton lazily, smiling like he’d already won. The one on the right rolled a knife across his knuckles, blade flashing in the sunlight like it was flirting with me.

The middle one spoke.
“You hurt one of ours. Day before yesterday.”

I tilted my head, squinting like I was tryna remember.
“Did I?”
“Huh. Guess he should’ve hit harder.”

That was when the knife guy laughed.
“Don’t worry, we’re gonna hit you… harder.”

All three of them laughed together－ big, confident, loud. The sound crawled under my skin. I laughed too. It burst out of me before I could stop it－ low, rough. Their laughter died instantly.
“What’s funny?!” knife-boy snapped. “You are alone, it’s three against one.”
I tilted my head, grin sharp enough to cut. “Yeah. And y’all brought weapons. Guess y’all scared.”

I unclipped Thrasher slowly, deliberately, letting the shovel’s metal head kiss the pavement with a dull clang. The sound echoed down the alley.
They glared at me before they glanced at my shovel and laughed once more.
“You think that thing’s gonna save you?” baton guy sneered.

I rested the shovel on my shoulder and shrugged.
“Nah.”

Then I bared my teeth.
“I think it’s gon’ embarrass y’all.”
Their faces twisted.

That was all it took. They charged.
Everything slowed.