Creative Writing

Shots Fired Part 4

“You need to kick back, dude.” The other mumbled under his breath, knocking my shoulder while passing me. I looked at the idiot still unconscious on the street, then back at the girl. She was staring at me in disbelief.

“Are you okay?” The flame within me was dying down and I took a step towards her. “Do you want me to walk you home?” She looked at me doubtfully, but to my surprise, replied her consent. We walked in near silence, except for the occasional “oh, sorry” when we accidentally bumped arms. All too soon, we reached her front door.

“So,” I cleared my throat. “You never told me your name.”

“Emily.” She replied quickly, “But I go by Em. And yours?”

“Jon. Just Jon.” I said, hating myself for the warm feeling starting to spread where the fire was moments ago. She rustled around in her purse and pulled out a slip of paper.

“Here’s my number, you know, in case you ever want to, um, hang out?” She rapidly shoved the paper into my hand and ran up the steps into her house without a glance back. I stared at the door, then back at my hand with the hope that this girl was the spark to something that could change my life for the better.

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