Saving Kids With Burritos

Kids that age—twelve, maybe thirteen—they're still growing. They need real food, not junk.

I was just about to drizzle the sauce and bring out the next round when—

Smack!

A small table near the cart flipped over outta nowhere.

"Look at you. No mom, crappy dad, and you're out here eating like you matter?"

A bunch of kids had crowded around Rory, all looking for a fight.

"Boss told you to wait by the gate after school. You stupid or something?"

One of them—buzz-cut, uniform half-untucked—stepped forward, smirking.

"Since Rory's so into burritos, let's give him a little extra. Make sure he's real full."

He yanked the tray out of my hands, dumped the burritos on the ground, and smashed them under his shoe.

"You think some charity case like you can go after the girl I like? Nah. Time for a reality check. Get him!"

The other boys clamped down on Rory's shoulders.

He was too small, too worn-out to fight back—just totally helpless.

"Let me go!"

"Let you go?" Buzz-cut snorted. "Yeah, right. I brought you something SPECIAL today."

He grabbed a fistful of burritos mashed with dirt and moved to shove it into Rory's mouth.

They were bullying him—right in front of me.

Like I wasn't even standing there.

I grabbed the kitchen knife from the side and slammed the flat of the blade against one kid's wrist.

They all jerked back, stunned. The muddy burritos hit the ground again.

"Are you crazy, lady?!"

"You trying to kill someone with that knife?"

I lifted the blade again. "You mess with people just 'cause you can? Cool. I can do the same to you. Fair trade."

Buzz-cut froze. "What's he even got to do with you? Stay out of it!"

I slammed the knife against the table beside me. The wood splintered with a sharp crack.

"I'm his mom. Touch my kid again, and I'll be on you with this knife every single day."

Everything went dead quiet.

Next thing they knew, I was swinging the knife like a maniac.

The punks scrambled back.

I yanked Rory behind me. "Get lost. Or you want a few cuts to go?"

Buzz-cut sneered but backed off. "You losers can't even handle one chick?"

His crew muttered, trembling. "Bro, forget it... She's really swinging that thing..."

Still grumbling, they finally took off.

I exhaled hard.

When I turned around, Rory was staring up at me, eyes red and glossy.

"Ma'am... I'm sorry for the trouble."

"What?" I brushed my hair out of my face, faking a dramatic sigh. "I was AWESOME back there. Aren't you gonna say something nice?"

I grinned. "Just kidding. Maya Murphy. You can call me Miss Murphy. I'm twenty-three—not that much older than you."

He smiled, and just like that, his whole face softened.

I packed up the cart, ready to bounce. "If you're ever hungry, come find me. I'm here after school."

He tugged at his shirt, eyes down. "But... I don't have any money left."