Err… more attempts to be witty and knowledgeable about the typical high school life but I doubt high schoolers are like that?? Do they talk so much before fighting? Idk.
“Oh yes, please, go ahead and hit me, so I can have the bruises to refer you all to the school authority and get your names struck off for jock scholarship.” I smirked maliciously, taunting the overgrown idiots that had me trapped in a corner. I scowled inwardly at my own carelessness though; the first day of school and already trouble brews. Karma is such a little bitch.
One of them, tall, blond and tanned, Hitler would have drooled over him for his brawn, stepped forward. Immediately, he towered over my pathetic height of 5’6. Damn my lack of height. If I were just a few inches taller and heavier, I wouldn’t be getting all these undying fans and their undivided attention.
“Don’t get all cocky with us, you little shit,” he snarled menacingly, dark blue eyes boring into mine, “I bet you’re a dirty fag, aren’t you?”
I snorted contemptuously at his attempt to intimidate me. Better men than him had tried and failed. As though I’d go weak at the knees over some meathead. “The name’s Julian Wyrd. Remember it and get the hell out of my face, you lousy bastard. You’re polluting my air.”
“Shut the fuck up,” another one of them, a readhead this time, growled. Without warning, he slammed me up against the wall, “You don’t insult us. We insult you. And then we bash your pretty face in so bad, your boyfriend won’t even recognize you.”
I didn’t bother flinching, even though being slammed up against the wall was really quite painful. 0 out of 10, would not recommend. Instead I chose to attack. Kneeing the idiot in the groin, I then punched him hard, making full use of the element of surprise. His nose broke with a satisfying crack under my fist.
“Shit! He punched Gordon!”
And the brawl of the day started.
Some things just don’t change; the sun will always rise from the East, frozen pizzas will always taste like cardboard, and idiots will always be idiots.
Now ain’t that a comforting thought?
Five against one, I don’t think that qualifies as a fair fight. I was bloodied and bruised by the time the cavalry showed up to aid the good fight. The idiots fled the scene immediately.
“Julien!” Ah, the familiar voice belonging to the bane of my life never sounded so welcoming. She was flanked by some boys, probably new friends that she made. Juliet was the social butterfly between the two of us. Me, I’m more like the disaster magnet. Case in point, the cowards of the hour, responsible for my bleeding mouth.
“Heya, sis,” I smiled up at her, wincing at the pain that flared through my lip when I spoke.
She scowled, irritation coming off her in waves so tangible that people thought a tsunami was about to occur. “Those fucking bigots! Are you okay, Julien? Can you stand?”
I grimaced, wanting so badly to just black out. But Juliet was hardly able to lug me around, even though we are nearly identical in height and weight. Gingerly, with the wall as my support, I managed to pull myself up. Everyone, my newest friend is now this piece of wall.
“Let’s get you patched up, okay?” Juliet scanned me now with worried eyes, as she tracked my slow movements closely.
Wobbling unsteadily, I tried to take a step forward, and felt my legs give way. Only to be caught by someone. Embarrassed by my own weakness, I mumbled a thanks and pushed him away. Or at least I tried to, because it was like pushing at a wall. Walls are no longer friends.
I looked up and found myself drawn into wondrously green eyes. Which was too awkward for me and my shaken nerves to take. I blinked and turned my attention to Juliet.
“Hey, some help here?” I glowered and clutched at my hurting ribs. I think it’s fractured or something. Oh joy.
“Bastien’s helping you, isn’t he?” She smiled coyly. I did not want to know what her ‘womanly wiles’ were up to. That smile was not a smile of rainbows and puppies. It was a smile of planning… and pain and humiliation. Probably my pain and my humiliation, knowing her. “C’mon, let’s go before those idiots come back. I don’t know about you, ‘Lien, but I don’t fancy looking black and blue.”