~update~
I walked home myself, staring at the ground, hands in my pockets, wondering what I’d done to deserve this. My hopes had dive-bombed, crashed and burned- I felt awful. Billy would sweep her off her worn-out Airwalks, she would get hurt, and as usual, it would be me who picks up the pieces.
But this time it was different; I really liked her. She was funny, and rockin’, and did I mention FINE? And Billy took her away from me. You don’t meet a girl like Kirsten every day, especially if you’re me. I started to feel more rage than sorrow. It built up; it took over. I was furious- how could he do that to me? I stopped, turned around, and headed back to the coffee place. This time I wasn’t afraid to kick some preppy jock ass.
I didn’t have to go all the way to the coffee place, though. Billy was walking down an alley, alone. I watched as he lit a cigarette, the orange light tearing through the blackness the solitary street lamp failed to illuminate. I walked up to him, and he stopped in his tracks.
“You know what? I bet you think it’s nothing. All in a day’s work for Billy Marshall- high-school superstar.”
He laughed. “Fuck off, queer.”
“You think it’s funny? You think it’s fuckin’ funny stealing a guy’s girl?”
“Yeah, actually, I do.”
“Go to hell.”
“Ooh, I’m scared; really.”
“Leave Kirsten alone,” I said, through gritted teeth. The light let me pick out a smirk forming on his smug face.
“Just another chick. They’re only good for one thing.”
That did it. I drew my fist back, quickly yet silently, and punched him square on the jaw- using my weight to cause maximum damage, like Coach Green always yelled at me to do. If he was here now, he’d be proud, I guess.
If it hurt, Billy didn’t show any sign of it. He simply placed his huge hand over the spot where I’d hit him, and looked at me with a shocked expression.
“You little fucking bag of shit” He grabbed my shirt collar, and breathed heavily. It was his turn to punch me, and did I mention how huge this guy was? And, worst of all, how small I was compared to him? His fist met my face. Hard. I fell to the ground, and blacked out.
When I woke up, I was in a hard, uncomfortable bed, which I instantly recognised as being from the local hospital. I sat up, quickly, and saw Seth, Tucker, Carson, Mallory, my Mom and my Dad sitting in the room. My Mom instantly came up to me, followed by my Dad and Tucker. The others stood up and sheepishly moved toward me, obviously unsure of whether to leave me with my parents or not.
My parents went through the whole procedure: who did this, yadda-yadda-yadda. I said I didn’t want to talk about it, and they left it at that after fifty seven or so times. Then I went through the whole routine again. I wasn’t ratting out on Billy, even if I did hate his guts.
Eventually, it was just me and Tucker in the room, and I told him. He was furious when I told him, and stood up. He picked up his board and headed for the door.
“Where you going?” I asked.
“To kick that dude’s ass from here to next Christmas.”
“Tucker, you’re crazy. You’re stronger than me, yeah, but you can’t take on Billy. Nobody can.”
“You’re right, man. Well, anyway, I gotta go, my mom’s probably paged me a million times. Later.”
“See you.”
I tried to get up, and found it pretty easy. My room had a bathroom, with a mirror in it. I walked over to it, as fast as I could with a limp, so nobody saw me in my boxers; I checked out my face. A black eye, my cheek was bruised. My legs and back were aching. I checked them out, too. Billy must’ve kicked me after I was down, which is meant to be, like, frowned upon or something. My clothes were lying on a chair, so I got dressed.
The car ride home was pretty silent. My parents knew I didn’t want to talk about it- any 15-year-old guy who got beat up would feel the same. It was like there was a storm in my heart, the thunderous conflict clashing with the lightening of confusion. I was pretty messed up, on the outside and the inside.
I didn’t see Kirsten again until school. She came by my house but I told my Mom, Dad and brother (who’d been at his friend’s house when I got hurt) to make up some excuse so that I didn’t have to see her. I couldn’t bear to look at her; she tried to talk to me at school a few times but I couldn’t take it. I’d always been the sort of, dark brooding type. I liked to keep things to myself, except when I was talking to Tucker. He was my best friend, ever. He’d never let me down, and he was always there for me when I needed him, so why hadn’t he called me? He probably thought I wanted some alone time or whatever.
On Sunday night, I went out, after promising my parent’s that I’d be careful and page my brother if I got into any hassle. I said I would, and met up with Seth and Carson. Tucker wasn’t answering our pages and his Mom said he went out a while ago. We hung out around the street, playing around on our boards.
“Wanna swing by the coffee place?” asked Carson, who was able to speak to us now that he didn’t have a Mallory hanging from his mouth. Seth nodded, and they both looked at me. I shrugged.
“Sure, yeah, whatever, y’know?” I realised what I said made no sense, but I just shook my head and led the way.
We had to walk past the alley, and as we neared it, I looked in. I expected to see nothing except the streetlight, but instead I saw Tucker. Lying on the ground. Not moving.
) before i post the next part. 
Gender:
Points: 1212
Reviews: 241