Knockout Boys

Chapter 15: Back on the Street

Two weeks later, I returned to school, my stomach churning as I scouted the area for bullies on the prowl. I had stalled going back to school for as long as I could, telling my Mom I still felt a bit dizzy, and then I'd sneak out with Kevin to train. But if I stayed out of school any longer, I don't think I would be able to catch up on work. Though I already knew most of the material, I wasn't superman, nerd edition. Even I wasn't that couldn't catch up after too long.

Hands clenched in my pockets, I walked down the long hallway lined with silver, dented lockers, and I wondered if any of the dents were made by my head the multiple times Paul smashed in into the lockers. People stared at me as I walked past, whispering under their hands and sneaking glances. A few jeered outright and threw crumpled pieces of paper at me. My eyebrows narrowed. Ugh. Band-wagoners. They were only on Paul's side because they knew he'd beat me easily. I shook my head. Did no one root for the underdog at this school?

Thankfully, my classes passed without incident, if I didn't count Paul smirking at me and slowly sliding his index finger across his throat. Shivering slightly, I told myself he wouldn't attack before the maze, most likely because then I wouldn't have a reason to go there and get pounded to a pulp for a live audience. I sighed and packed up my stuff, left the classroom, and went to my locker to put away my books. As it turned out, someone pranked me by putting Vaseline on the lock, again, so it was taking me forever to wipe it off and turn the lock in the right combination. Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed my arm and swung me around, making me lose my balance and stumble backwards into the lockers. I flinched, covered my head with my hands and waited for it to be over.

"Idiot," sighed a familiar voice, and opened my eyes to see Kevin's irked expression, and a few alarmed glances from nearby group of girls.

"Lover's quarrel?" sneered Josh, walking by.

Irritated, I stared at Kevin incredulously. "What was that for?" I demanded, my heart pounding wildly from leftover fear.

"Come with me," he snapped, grabbing my arm. I snatched my bag from the floor and let him drag me along to wherever the hell he was taking me. Once we were outside, he let me go and fixed me with an ice blue glare. "You're so clueless, a fucking elephant could have snuck up you," he growled. "You can't let your guard down like that. And for Christ's sake, fight back! Have I taught you nothing?"

I folded my arms over my chest and bit down on my lip to shut down a sarcastic reply. I had made it a record of an entire day without getting physically attacked by bullies, and ironically the one who shoved me into a locker was Kevin, who was supposed to be on my side. But I didn't say any of that, no, I just looked down at my sneakers hopelessly.

"The real world ain't gonna wait for you to put on your boxing gloves and psych yourself up," said Kevin. I glanced up at him, watching him run a hand through his raven hair. Suddenly, his frown morphed into a grin. "Well, I know how to fix that," he cocked an eyebrow.

"How?" I asked nervously.

"I'm gonna surprise attack you," he said cheerfully, "whenever I feel like it." I groaned in protest, but he just laughed and threw an arm around my shoulder, leaning his weight on me so I stumbled a bit. "It's for your own good, Rocky."

"Right," I mumbled. "And you definitely don't get a kick out of scaring me."

Kevin ruffled my hair. "Tough love, kid."

I forced a smile, unsure how to take that statement, especially the second word. But it was okay, because Kevin walked away from me, and busied himself unlocking his bike. I let out a quiet sigh of relief that he didn't see my pained smile. I bit my lip and pushed all the weird thoughts from my mind as I followed him.

Mom had arranged for River to pick me up, but River wanted to go out with her girlfriend after school, and to be honest, I wanted to hang out with Kevin. Kevin hopped on the bike, and I scrambled on after him, and gripped the seat under me instead of putting my arms around him. I wanted to touch him as little as possible. But when blasted the motorcycle forward at full speed, I grabbed a hold of his jacket, almost falling off and pulling him down with me. "Sorry!" I yelped.

"Dammit, Rocky," he muttered, but didn't chew me out for it. I suppressed a sigh of relief and stayed quiet the rest of the ride, until we reached the maze.

But when Kevin and I walked to the old, weather beaten shed, there were three bikes already parked outside. I hesitated, afraid of what sketchy people could be at the abandoned corn maze. Kevin had no qualms, it seemed, and he marched right in, flinging the flimsy door open.

Three teen boys were sitting in a circle and smoking out of some strange bottle. Noticing us, one of them stood up and swaggered over. "Who the fuck are you," he slurred. He was tall and wiry, and paranoia was evident in his red rimmed eyes as they darted from Kevin to me.

"We're here to train," said Kevin, holding his gaze until the boy looked away.

"Get out of here," the boy muttered, his face blood red, a vein popping in his forehead. Then he reached into his pocket pulled out switchblade. My eyes bugged out, and dizziness filled my head like a fog, causing me to almost faint on Kevin. "I said get out!" he yelled, brandishing the weapon.

Kevin let out a barking laugh, humorless and ice cold. "Hell no, this is our space." He dumped his bag by the side of the boxing ring then, in one fluid motion, he grabbed an abandoned beer bottle and smashed the end against one of the poles. I watched the glass shatter in slow motion, the tinkling sound taking a long time to reach my ears as I repeated to myself this isn't happening.

"Yo, James!" one of the other boys said. They had both gotten to their feet. "It's not worth it."

"You gonna call the cops?" the unhinged boy, James, demanded. His eyes found mine, and I physically flinched. James sneered, and my stomach dropped. I knew that look. The look bullies always had when they saw me, the weak one, the target.

"We won't," I squealed. "We were just leaving."

"We're staying put," said Kevin through his teeth. His lips curled into a feral grin. "You got a problem with that?" His fingers gripped the broken bottle tightly.