When I arrived at school the next day, I immediately noticed the noisy group of bikers parked in the center of the courtyard, along with the careful empty space surrounding them.

There was a nice pile of gray clouds in the sky, visibility was just perfect, enough for me to distinguish each of those seven idiots.

No. Wait. Now that I saw them clearly, I knew the one missing was Nathan Shaw: one meter seventy-five, African American, with a tangle of dreads on his head reaching just past his shoulders. Beyond what was immediately apparent, I hadn't found out much about him. I knew he had been in foster care until he was eighteen, and I knew he wasn't from around here. I had no idea how he had joined the Coyotes or what his role in the gang was.

And now he wasn't responding to the Coyote's call to gather? Had he finally gotten tired of playing getting arrested as soon as possible?

"Ben."

Ah, little Casper the ghost was calling me. I was still debating whether to keep walking as if nothing had happened when Cas abandoned his abomination of a motorcycle with his lackeys and stood in front of me to block my path.

"So? What did you find out?"

I found out that I want to drop the case. That I can't forget about you if you keep buzzing around me like a mosquito I can't squash.

"There are no cameras on Chelsea Street."

Casper smiled, pulling up one corner of his mouth. He still had his motorcycle gloves on, his black leather jacket bulking up his shoulders.

"That makes me very happy. But did you find out who left that letter?"

I hesitated. I crossed my arms over my chest. Suddenly, I was nervous. I just needed to tell him that I hadn't found anything and I didn't intend to look any further.

My eyes began to tremble, and automatically, I tilted my head to frame Cas in my blind spot, but as soon as I started to find the right position, he moved so I could stay straight.

It infuriated me. I had both sunglasses and a visor cap on; he couldn't have seen my eyes trembling. A nod of my head was enough for him to understand what I was doing.

"So?"

"So, without cameras, there's not much I can do. I could... I could question the neighbors."

I bit my tongue. Why did I say that? I was supposed to drop the case. DROP IT.

Casper chuckled. "Question the neighbors? I was hoping for something a bit more elaborate, Mr. Detective. I too am capable of asking around if anyone saw anything."

"You're capable? Darling, without me, you can't even warm up milk for your bedtime. You have no idea how to interrogate witnesses. You can barely hold a human conversation."

"Okay." His voice was still laughing. "Then it seems you'll have to come yourself."

I opened my mouth and closed it. Did I just offer to delve into the depths of the Pit? What the hell is wrong with me? I went there with the intention of categorically refusing him.

"Um. I can't. I have the internship after school, you know." Before things could get worse, I stepped to the side and tried to slip away from that wall of a boy.

"Then let's go now." He grabbed my arm and held me back. His gloves were stiff, they seemed like a dead thing around his hands. I hated them.

Everything started going to hell with that fucking motorcycle.

"It's class time now, Cas. You know? School? That thing you should be attending instead of being a criminal?"

"I'm not a criminal. And you won't die if you miss a class. Come on, you know that if we wait too long, we won't find out anything."

That was certainly true. The fact that testimonies would become less reliable over time, not the fact that he wasn't a criminal.

The grip on my arm tightened, pulling my mind away from all the ways I was trying to get out of this mess.

"Ben, please."

I looked at him. Most of the time, it wasn't an action capable of giving me any information, but at that moment, the direct sunlight was absorbed by the clouds, and he was in just the right spot. So I saw it clearly, as clearly as I could see, the worry that wrinkled his forehead, pulled his lips, and clouded his eyes.

Oh, Cas... what trouble have you gotten yourself into now?

"I- okay." The grip loosened. The wall of his shoulders relaxed slightly. "Today there are no tests, I can afford to take a quick look around your neighborhood. I'll order an Uber and then let you know what I find out."

"An Uber?" He repeated as if it were the dumbest idea he ever heard. "It'll take three times as long to wait for it to arrive and take you there. That is, if they agree to go on a trip into the Pit."

"Three times compared to what?" I asked already with crossed arms, ready to plant my feet in that square of concrete if he tried to suggest...

"Compared to my bike." He turned to that monstrosity surrounded by a gang of poor copies that looked like toys by comparison, and indicated his, in case I could somehow forget what it was: a Kawasaki Ninja H2R, customized with red paint and a matching helmet.

"You're crazy. Never again. I'd rather drag myself barefoot."

He turned back to me, occupying my blind spot again to make sure I noticed his bastard grin. "I swear I'll go slow."

"Do I look like I was born six seconds ago? I'm not falling for it again, Casper."

"You're so suspicious. It means we'll have to wait for your Uber to arrive, take the longest and busiest route to squeeze a few extra bucks out of you, and by then I'll have been there for at least half an hour."

I let out an exasperated breath, and a blow to the stomach made me release even the last molecules of carbon dioxide.

"Put this on."

I grabbed the helmet planted in my stomach when I felt he was letting it go.

Before I could retort, Cas turned to talk to his lackeys.

"Jack, I'm going in." Said the one on the right, still crouched on the saddle.

It was Cole Garavito. The only one of that bunch of misfits who hadn't dropped out of school yet. If there was anyone among the Coyotes who could make something of his life, it was that boy with the anonymous look and the dead gaze. He had ranked in the top ten winners of the International Math Olympiad for three years in a row. I had no idea why the hell he was wasting his time with leather jackets and a coyote painted on his helmet.

Cas reached out his arm, and the two did that very macho greeting of taking each other's hand and bumping shoulders.

"See you later." Cas said without giving any specifics of either the place or the time of the meeting.

Cole Garavito started his motorcycle and made a hell of a noise to move it twenty meters to the parking lot.

The others also started buzzing like ants, putting on helmets and lifting kickstands.

Three of them moved too quickly for me to distinguish them clearly. Each made a nod of greeting and zoomed out of the courtyard, towards the road.

The only one left besides Cas was Masao. He had the helmet covering his head, but I recognized him by his sad gray motorcycle with the broken taillight.

"Do you need me, Jack?" His voice was muffled. At night, Masao had wet dreams in which Casper finally ordered him to beat me to a pulp and throw my corpse in a ditch.

"Don't worry. See you later."

Masao took a couple of seconds to silently express his contempt for me.

I smiled, blissful like a child, and waved my fingers goodbye.

Masao and his motorcycle -held together by duct tape- disappeared.

"What are you waiting for? Put on the helmet." Casper mounted the bike and gripped the handlebars.

I stood frozen.

"Why is everything always so difficult with you? I promised I'd go slow."

"Cas, I swear, if you lie this time, you'll pay for it."

He raised his hand to his chest. "Cross my heart."

He was a liar through and through. I knew it. But I was stupid.

I took off my cap, revealing my beautiful blue hair, to which Casper directed his obligatory disgust. Then I took off my sunglasses, ready to be blinded by the shadowy light of a cloudy day. I stuffed both into my backpack and put on that damned helmet.

The visor was a sunshade, thank God, but the limited field of vision it allowed was downright frustrating. I felt much more incapacitated than usual.

I approached slowly, sure that I would stumble over some obstacle I couldn't see.

"Come on." Cas grabbed my hand, taking me by surprise. I wondered how many looks we were attracting now. Was this more suspicious than being surrounded by a gang?

Casper pulled my hand towards the saddle. Once I found a grip, I knew how to handle myself. I straddled the seat with one leg, found the pegs to rest my feet on, and, well... there were only Cas's hips to hold onto.

"Sure you don't want to hold on better?" There was a fair amount of amusement in his tone, which I didn't appreciate at all.

I didn't answer. At this point, I could only see his back, the glossy black of his jacket, all blurred and trembling.

I hated the helmet more than I hated the bike. I hated feeling more blind than I actually was.

There was a metallic sound, and suddenly, we swayed to one side. I squeezed my grip on his jacket and tensed my legs as if I were laying an egg.

"We haven't even started yet." Cas was having a blast.

He had just removed the kickstand.

"Shut up and focus on what you're doing."

"As you wish." The engine growled as if it wanted to devour me, the tires squealed on the concrete, and the jolt of the start tried to knock me down.

I let out a scream and clung to Cas's waist, flattening myself against his back. I would have smashed onto the concrete. I would have broken my neck.

I couldn't see a damn thing. My legs pressed against his. We leaned. Again. And again. The turn ended, and I wasn't dead.

The roar of the engine drowned out everything else; I only heard a honk escaping at speed. Not even the whistle of the wind could reach me.

I was pressed against him with so much force that I couldn't even tremble.

We leaned again, and this time, I was sure I could feel the heat of the concrete just inches from my knee. I'm going to die.

"CASPEEER!" I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you.

He didn't even have a helmet on! If he wanted to make the ultimate gesture, he should do it without me in the passenger seat!

The noise of the bike merged with a sound dangerously similar to Cas laughing.

The hustle and bustle of traffic continued to flow behind us. We raced as if we had to beat the ticking of time.

After surviving the first five minutes, I resigned myself to close my eyes, stop straining my ears to any sound, and try to hold on until the end.

I don't know when the motorcycle started to slow down, but the noise it made was still deafening. I began to relax my muscles and convinced my hands to loosen their grip on Cas's waist.

I swear I'll go slow.

I swear I'll shove a spiked club up your ass.

As soon as that piece of junk bike stopped, I let go altogether and jumped off. I unclasped the helmet.

"See? It wasn't so-"

I took off the helmet and grabbed it from the back.

"Ben! Don't-"

I smashed the visor on the concrete with all my might, feeling a satisfying crack on the first blow. Cas came to snatch his little gem from my hand before I could strike again, but the damage was done. You always have to replace the helmet after an impact.

"Oww, it was an original Kawasaki! I'm so sorry!"

"You're such a bastard... We weren't even going that fast."

I turned to kick his bike, but I was grabbed from under my armpits and dragged back like a child throwing a tantrum at the supermarket.

"Get a grip." He let me go only when I was at a safe distance from his true love.