They Rule the Streets

The Mets strutted their way down the streets, laughing and joking at their leader’s bravery and quick thinking. “That was brilliant, Jon,” Zac Farro praised, falling in step behind Jon and his second in command, Mike Carden.

Jon nodded, the epitome of seriousness, but his eyes glittered with mischief. Jon led them into the apartment complex they and their family’s lived in. To the people living in the shabby building, Jon Walker, his family, and The Mets were Chicago royalty in the city of New York. He led them all through the harsh treatment, through the unfairness of the locals because of their accents, the way they dressed, and the city of their birth. They were Chicagoans true and true, and proud of it.

“Jon!” In a mass of curly goldish-brown hair and blue skirts, Jon was tackled backwards by his seventeen-year-old sister, Anna. Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back.

“Anna! How was work today?” he asked, slipping an arm around her waist and leading her into their apartment, raising a hand goodbye to his gang behind him.

“Ugh,” she muttered, crinkling her nose. “Mrs. West was just as bad as always. She just expects us to bend over backwards and make dress after dress! One of these days, I’ll be making her make my dress!”

Jon laughed, pulling her closer to his chest. He’d give up the world for his sister, he’d do anything for her; he convinced his parents to bring her to New York so she’d have a chance at a better life, he found her the job, he spent every moment he spent walking the streets making sure she was safe.

“I know you’ll do it, Anna,” he praised her, holding her, if possible, closer. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“ANNA! GET UP HERE!” Anna jumped at the loud voices echoing through the small complex. Jon raised an eyebrow, glancing down at his currently blushing sister.

“Phoebe and Kate are making me a dress for the dance,” she muttered. Jon instantly stiffened.

“No,” he snapped.

“Why not? I’m seventeen years old!” she cried, ripping herself away from him. “I’m not a baby!”

“I know you’re not, Anna,” Jon sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Then treat me like an adult! Why can’t you trust me?” she snapped. Her hands glued themselves to her hips as she glared at him as best as she could.

“Anna, I trust you. It’s boys that I don’t trust!” he defended. “I mean, look at you! I’ll have ’ta beat ’em off of you!” Jon's eyes swept over her gold hair, her chocolate eyes, and faintly tanned skin.

“Stop it, Jon,” she smiled, looking down at her shoes. “I just…I want to be able to act like a seventeen year old, for once in my life. Please, Jon?”

“Anna…”

“ANNA! GET UP HERE!” Phoebe’s voice cut through the air as Jon sighed. Anna sighed once, before turning back to the door.

“I’ll tell them to stop,” she whispered, walking away.

“Oh alright!” Jon cried, tossing his hands up in the air. “You can go!” Squealing, Anna threw herself onto her brother, hugging him as tight as she possibly could before sprinting out the door and up the steps, two at a time.

“Thank you so much, Jon! You won’t regret it, I promise!” she shouted after her. Five seconds passed before her ecstatic voice echoed down to him “You guys, he said yes!”

Deep down, Jon had a feeling that things weren’t going to go as well as they thought it would.