My semi-fictional boyfriend - Young Johnny Lawrence (The Karate Kid)

Chapter 2||Relentless

"Hey!" The door swung open. "I'm still here, you know!"

"I know. I just kinda hoped you'd disappear if I shut the door." I shrugged, still holding the bat on my shoulder.

"Yeah, right. What's your problem?"

"What's my problem? What about the fact that a random dude that doesn't exist just showed up at my door, knew my name and somehow, had the audacity to be rude to me in my own home?"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean? Of course I exist. I'm standing right here, aren't I Sunshine?"

Was that seriously all he heard?

"Don't call me that." I snapped. "Besides, Johnny, you're from a movie."

"Bullshit!"

"Oh really, then how come you're in South Africa? How come your not in the valley, defending your title?"

"I'm here to find LaRusso and kick his ass. Wait, what do you mean South Africa?" He eyed me suspiciously, like he thought I was crazy, too.

"We're in South Africa right now, Bro. You're in the wrong country and the wrong era."

"This isn't nineteen-eighty-four?"

"Nope, it's Twenty-twenty-Two."

He sat down quickly, falling into a nearby chair. Pulling his black head-band loose, he wrapped it around his hand like it was an anchor. I felt sorry for him for a second and then I realized again that this guy was possibly my least favorite character in any movie ever. He was a bully and a flirt, not to mention a full-fledged asshole.

"How'd you even get here?"

"Dunno."

"Wonderful." You replied as sarcastically as possible.

His eyes snapped to yours. "You know, you're a real piece of work."

"Well, don't count yourself out on that one."

He made an exasperated sound and turned to storm out of our apartment. I followed, not really knowing why.

"Where are you going?!"

"Anywhere where there isn't a LaRusso groupie to annoy me."

I caught up to him, shoving him in the shoulder. "I'm not a LaRusso Groupie, you jerk. Besides, you'll never survive out here on your own."

"So, what? You're offering to help me now?" Was I? Maybe if that would get rid of him.

"Yes, only this once." Hopefully.

I led him back into the apartment, shutting the door behind me. Grabbing a glass I poured myself some water and gulped the whole thing down like it was nothing. Damn I was thirsty.

"You want some water?"

"Sure."

A yes please would've been nice, I thought irritably.

I handed him a glass and sat down on the couch across from him, unsure of what to do now. He chugged the glass and left it on the table.

"So now what?" You asked.

"Now, we find LaRusso so I can kick his ass and you can patch your little boyfriend up. Then we leave."

"First of all, I am team Daniel but if you keep calling him my boyfriend, I'm gonna kick your ass. Second, where the hell are we going to find him? It's not like he popped out in front of my apartment, too."

"I dunno. Maybe we can just see if he's in the neighborhood."

"Fine."

I thought about ordering an UBER for a sec and then thought better of it. Neither of us could afford being driven around aimlessly all day. My eye caught the glinting keys hanging behind the door and I couldn't help smiling.

"It's a good thing I've got a ride."

He gave me a worried look but didn't say anything. As we stood up to leave, I gave him a pointed look.

"What now?"

"You're just going to leave the glass there?"

"Oh for-"

I folded my arms, daring him to finish that sentence.

He grabbed the glass angrily and for a moment I was afraid he would break it - in his hand or against the floor - but he left it in the sink with a loud thud.

Satisfied, I locked the door behind us and led him around to our tiny garage. My bike stood front and center when the door opened, since we didn't have a car. It was a rough looking thing with blue covers and a long seat. I think Dad called it a dirtbike? Either way, it took me from point A to point B and that was all that really mattered.

We bought it at a garage sale last year and, wow, was it a piece of junk! I managed to fix it up using a combination of youtube videos and dumpster diving.

Johnny gave an appreciative whistle and held out his hand for the keys.

I ignored him and grabbed the two helmets from the shelf. Handing him the pink one covered in flowers, I put my own over my wild curls and sat down on the bike.

"You're kidding, right?" He was holding the helmet away from him, like he was afraid it might bite him.

"Nope. Hop on." I smiled as I thought of the Orange Thunder helmet I wore which was black with orange lightning strikes. The thought of him suffering brought me so much joy.

He awkwardly clambered on behind me, clearly not used to riding behind someone. First, he tried to put his hands on my hips.

"You could try walking." I said, not starting the bike.

"You could try lightening up." He mumbled as he put his arms around my middle instead. Kicking the bike to life, we sped out onto the street as the garage door closed quietly behind us.