Footprints in Your Heart

Kai: Soldier (Part 2)

In the split second between him finishing his sentence and the blink of my vision, he lunges for Jarley, pinning him to the wall whilst two of his mates secure his legs.

'Remember, this is all your fault,' Ben says in a voice close to a snarl as Jarley struggles under his huge hands. 'We gave you a way out. We always do.' It all happens so quickly, like the blur on a phone camera – I only register a flash of movement, then Ben is readying his kicking foot for a second go and Jarley is doubled over, clutching his stomach with an involuntary cry of pain.

It's the cry that stirs something in me. It's raw and human and jolts with the clarity that here is a fellow human being suffering only a few metres away from me and what am I doing? Sofia's words from our call come to me: your heart's in the right place, soldier. A soldier wouldn't just stand by and watch someone get bullied, not even if their heart was in the wrong place. I'm not this person. I won't be this person a second longer.

Before I can think about any of the consequences I'm running at full tilt towards Jarley, Ben, and the other guys, feet in my clunky school shoes hitting the cobbled ground, nearly tripping over a handball someone's left on the court.

'Hey,' I shout once I reach them, in the deepest, most authoritative voice I have. I try not to sound out of breath. 'Step away from him.'

They all swivel around to look at me, the bullies' eyebrows raising at the sight of another innocent bunny rabbit walking right into their bloodbath of a hunters' trap. Jarley's eyes are pleading, hopeful. I hold his gaze. I let him know that I'm a soldier, here to defend him.

'Well, well. Who's this?' Ben sounds amused, but not threatened, as if I'm a small beetle he knows he can crush under his heel at any moment he wishes. 'You Jarley's boyfriend?'

'No,' I say, willing my voice to sound without a tremor. Locking my hands behind my back, I raise my chin to look him in the eye. 'I'm Kai. And I'm telling you to leave him. Right now.'

Ben turns to the group surrounding him and snorts a guffaw, a full body laugh that seems to vibrate the air around us. 'Boys, this midget here thinks he can take us. I'm gonna piss myself.'

Some of the other guys join him in chuckling, but their eyes say it's more of a reflex, like how one person yawning can make everyone around them yawn too. I follow their gazes as they trace out an imaginary horizontal line from the top of my head. I'm not short – I'm actually taller than a couple of them, but I used to be, and sometimes the ghost of who you once were can follow you around even when you're with strangers.

I wait until he's finished before I speak again. 'No, I won't be taking you.' Inhale to strengthen my resolve. Deadpan. 'Unless it's on a date. Then we could go after this.'

There's a second of the words crashing against their minds, and then Ben's friends erupt into loud oohs and laughter. 'Whoa, dude,' one guy says. 'He got you good.'

Ben's face darkens, his mock-joking mood from earlier blotted out by embarrassment. 'You'd like that, wouldn't you?' he says tightly, his arms tense as he steps towards me. 'You queer. You' – he stabs a finger into my chest, and I try not to flinch – 'can't stop me from carrying out justice with our mate Jarley here, all right? So don't even try. Or I'll do the same to you.'

I think of the rough way he pushed Jarley back onto the wall, the mocking and laughter, the shark grinning, and a torrent of blood rushes in my ears. Disgusting. Immoral. Die in hell. 'That's not justice.' My voice shakes a little at the end with anger and I force it back to flat ground. 'The way justice works is you get what you give.'

'Exactly.' Ben steps back from me, towards the wall where Jarley hasn't moved a muscle. 'He's getting a lesson, that's all.'

With one hand behind me I quickly, inconspicuously reach for the handball I almost tripped on when I ran to them. 'No,' I say flatly to his face. The ball is rubbery and smooth and has a tough elastic feel when I squeeze it. 'I didn't mean Jarley at all.'