The community center's fluorescent lights hummed like cicadas in the summer heat, but the tension inside made the air feel chilly. Jordan, who most people just refer to as "J" was the focal point of the "in" crowd gathered around a ping-pong table that had been scratched up.
J was not very happy. Their expression was a mask of deliberate indifference, a necessary defense mechanism honed over years of being disregarded. Everywhere they went, including indoors, they wore a tattered denim jacket as a personal shield against the world that had offered them no protection since Dad left and Mom began working double shifts. J's only safety net at this point was the group at the ping-pong table. They were boisterous, devoted, and blatantly theirs.
Leo, a new kid who was intelligent, gifted, and most importantly had not yet shown that he would stay with them, was the target for tonight.
"So, the old man's hardware store?" J remarked while leaning against the wall and staring at Leo. The suggestion was weighted and hung in the air. "Easy selections. For the mural, we need some spray paint. Large mural.”
Leo took a deep breath. "Where is my uncle? He had faith in my ability to lock up tonight.”
"Exactly," J replied, stepping away from the wall. With a heavy, intense focus that felt like a physical weight on Leo's chest, they drew nearer without being menacing. "Leo, it's about trust. Our confidence. Now you're in the circle. This is how it operates. If you take advantage of us, we'll make sure you're never mistreated again."
It was a demand for belonging rather than for harm. The act of defiance was a blood pact to J. Leo was dedicated but was he prepared to go above and beyond for the group? He wouldn't simply disappear like their mother or disappear like J's father.
Leo's desperation tasted bitter to J as they watched him falter. They detested placing children like Leo in this situation, but there was no other way for them to be certain. How else could J make sure that this delicate, lovely feeling of family didn't vanish into thin air?
"Just ten cans," J said, maintaining a steady tone and attempting to sound unconcerned, as if it weren't the most significant test in the world. "In and out. We assure you that we have your back."
Leo paused for a moment longer, glanced around at the crew members nodding, and then nodded tightly and nervously.
J permitted themselves to make a tiny, almost relieved-looking tightening of the eyes. Another brick was inserted into their fortress wall. They only needed the safety it provided; they didn't enjoy the risk itself.
After securing the cans later that evening, J managed to elude the crew. J needed a moment while everyone else worked on the mural. They made their way three blocks to a dimly lit alleyway behind a closed diner. They found an old guitar case hidden in a dumpster.
There was a gorgeous, worn-out acoustic guitar inside.
J started playing while sitting on an overturned milk crate, lit only by the glow of a far-off streetlight. The music that erupted was neither hostile nor furious. It sounded eerie and profoundly depressing, a complex fingerpicking melody. J could only be soft there. The only location where walls were not necessary.
A stray cat emerged from the shadows and peered at J through large green eyes. J took a moment to stop playing and threw a small piece of dried-out jerky to the cat after taking it out of their pocket.
J said in a whisper, "Here," and the tough exterior briefly vanished. "Gotta eat."
They resumed their music, which was a silent admission of the lonely child hiding behind the "J" persona and a testament to a heart that merely yearned for a safe place to land. The cat happily chewed the jerky, and for those brief moments, they both felt safe and at ease.