Life of a Teenage Assassin [ON HIATUS]

5) Life of a Teenage Assassin ~Whipped His Ass

Chapter Five

Whipped His Ass

As predicted, I beat John by a long length. He was huffing and puffing now, but I was barely worked up, just dirty from the mud in the obstacle course. I had a fun time rubbing it in his face. Ryleigh skipped up to us.

“Ya owe me 10, Taylor! Didn’t I say you’d win?” John wiped his sweat with a cloth Ryleigh handed over and took a swig from his water bottle.

“You bet against me Rye-Rye? That’s not very girlfriend-ish!” He pouted, rubbing a sore spot on his arm. She jumped onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Well, you were the one stupid enough to compete against her. She holds the record time! What the hell were you thinking?” She screamed in his ear. I wanted to burst out laughing, but it’d probably ruin the moment, which I did not want to miss. This was too precious: Ryleigh yelling at John’s stuck up little ass. I waited for his answer. He just mumbled something that sounded sort of like ‘what was I thinking?’ Serves you right, ass. I held out my hand and Ryleigh handed me my water bottle. I took a long drink, fully refreshed. I glance at her, “You up for another round? Your boyfriend looks like he probably couldn’t survive another round…” He glared at me but made no protest. Probably because he secretly knew I was right.

Ryleigh looked at me feigning surprise, “Is that the famous Taylor asking me to compete against her as she holds the record-breaking 2 minute, 7 seconds? I must be dreaming…” She pretends to faint like an adoring fan. I rolled my eyes (AGAIN) and take another drink of water, wiping my mouth against the back of my hand. I nudge her with my big toe. She jolts up and looks at me. I ask again, “Well…?”

“Sure,” She hops up and pulls her long red hair into a high pony. She turned to John, “And if I die, I’m blaming it on you.”

He acts surprised, “Why me? You’re the one agreeing!”

“Yes, but that’s cuz you agreed to compete against her first. And then she beat your bruised ass and god knows no one else is going to fight against her unless they want their masculine-ness torn from them too. But if she doesn’t have anyone to compete, she’ll be unable to exercise,” Her voice starts becoming increasingly animated, “and then she’ll grow fat and—”

“If you’re going to say I’ll have diabetes and then die, you’d better stop right there Ryleigh Thomas,” I said, pulling my messy bun tighter.

“Yah, and she could always do the course on her own.”

“Yes, but where’s the fun in that? There’s no one to rub in their faces afterwards.” I pointed out.

Ryleigh nodded in agreement, “Yah John, it’s always your freaking fault!” John was gaping like a fish, pointing at himself.

I flicked him, “Yah you, dumbass. And count yourself lucky that you have Ryleigh Thomas as your girlfriend!”

He regained composure, and smirking said, “Oh…it’s going to Sanders soon. John and Ryleigh Sanders. Doesn’t it have a beautiful ring to it?” He wiped a fake tear.

Ryleigh poked him, “Actually I think Ryleigh and John Sanders sounds better. Don’t you?” She asked me. I held my hands out, palm facing out.

“This ain’t my fight. But yes, I think that sounds a heck much better.” John rolled his eyes. (A/N: They do that quite often don’t they? Sorry, back to the story…)

“Fine, I’m going to go talk to that nice fellow gentleman right there. Why don’t you guys find someone else to bug?” Both Ryleigh and I burst into giggle fits. Why? Because John wasn’t looking at where he was pointing and he was pointing at a lumpy, fat, balding man who looked like acne cream was a fairytale to him. Ew.

I choked out, “Him? Fine with us. Go talk to him.” John looked bewildered and turned to see who he was pointing at. He turned green as the man turned to face him. Still trying to stifle my laughter and I turned to Ryleigh, “I think this is our cue to leave.” She continues to giggle and I dragged her towards the long tunnels. We hide behind them and peek at John. It looked like he was stuttering as the man towered over him, outweighing him by at least 250 lbs. I poked Ryleigh in the ribs, “As much as this was fun, I think you’d better go save your boyfriend before he gets stripped of his masculine-ness twice in one day.” She laughs and agrees. I watch her skip to him and the man. The guy turns to her and licks his purple-moist looking lips. Double ew. He had to be at least 60. Gross. He gets a little feely-touchy by the looks of it and before you know it, he’s on the ground, Ryleigh towering over him and slapping his sagging face. I could hear the sharp slaps from all the way over here. And boy could you hear the voice. Sharp as a whistle.

“WHAT THE FUCK MAN! YOU DISGUSTING PERVERT! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME AND DON’T YOU COME NEAR ME OR MY BOYFRIEND EVER AGAIN!” I cheered for Ryleigh in my head. Looks like John won’t be the only one stripped way of his masculine-ness. She gives one more firm slap and stands up. She dusts herself off and gives a show of fixing her fly-away hair. Then, she locks arms with John and practically drags him over since he’s too busy catching flies in his mouth then move his feet. I smirk at her and she throws back an angelic smile. I held my hand up for a high five when—

“WILL SCARLET TAYLOR PLEASE REPORT TO DR. ROSS’S OFFICE. HE SAYS IT’S URGENT.” The intercom died down, it’s loud voice still echoing in the gym. Ryleigh looks at me. I shift guiltily. Raising one hand, “Well…I guess I’ll see you later.” She just nods, but her eyes are saying ‘you’d better tell be what the hell this is about later’. I sling on my bag and leave the gym, feeling everyone else’s eyes boring into my back.