Rule of the Fist

Chapter 2

Riley shoved open the door to her classroom, which made it bang against the opposite wall. It was Friday, a day that meant no gym, and two full days to recover and prepare for another week of school. She shoved her way through the torrent of kids all making one mad dash through the hallways. Emmy had stayed home with the flu, so Riley made the walk alone.

Near the front doors, a crowd of kids surrounded something that Riley couldn’t see. She ducked and shoved people aside as she made her way through. Jacob Anderson, the boy who had hit her with the dodgeball, held a baseball cap high over his head as a small boy below tried to jump to reach it. As the smaller boy turned his head for a second to face her, Riley's heart sank. It was Henry.

“Gimme it!” Henry’s face was flushed with anger as he made another jump for the cap, which Jacob just held higher out of reach.

“Nope.” Jacob shoved Henry against the wall. As Henry stood on the soles of his feet and raised his arms in an attempt to reach the cap, Jacob held it higher and kept one hand on Henry’s chest.

“Catch, Seaver!” Jacob twirled the cap on his finger and tossed it to another boy standing near him, who caught it and used it to taunt Henry for a minute before throwing it back to Jacob. Henry shoved him angrily, backing away before Jacob could push him back. 

“Keep away? You guys really don’t have anything better to do?” Riley hadn’t realized she’d said the words until Henry stopped jumping and turned her way, along with everyone else, to look at the new arrival.

Somebody nudged Riley from behind and she fell at Jacob’s feet. Picking herself up quickly, she turned to face the crowd of snickering children. “Alright, who did that?”

There was no answer.

Jacob walked toward her, putting the cap on his head as he grabbed two fistfuls of her shirt. Riley’s reaction was pure reflex. She kicked him in the leg. Jacob doubled over, releasing her and clutching his stomach. As he did, the cap fell off his head and Henry ran forward to retrieve it. Snatching his cap from the floor, he took off for the front doors.

As soon as Jacob recovered, he rushed forward, fists at the ready but Riley had quickly backed away, turning and heading in the same direction Henry had gone. As soon as she’d left the building, Riley bent over, out of breath, and put her hands on her knees.

She spotted a lone figure sitting against the trunk of a tree at the end of the school walkway. Riley shook her head and made her way toward it.

“Hey.” She sat down next to Henry and pushed one hand into the dirt as she turned to look at him. Henry had his arms crossed and he stared at the ground, his bangs flopping into his eyes.

“Thanks for sticking around, you know. To make sure I got out okay,” she said sarcastically.

“I’m sorry,” Henry sighed. “He just makes me so, I don’t know.”

“Scared?”

Henry made eye contact with her for the first time. “Scared? No way. I’ve never been scared in my entire life.”

Riley smiled. “Everybody gets scared. You’re lying.”

“Fine,” Henry said. “Look, this happens to me a lot.”

“Getting scared?”

“No, getting bullied. At my old school. I hoped it’d stop.”

“Riley! Hey!” An angry voice interrupted their conversation. “What happened to you? Were you planning to go home without me?” Abby stood over the two children, her friend Madison by her side.

“Geez, Abby I’m really sorry.” Riley stood up. “Come on Henry, let’s go.”

“I don’t feel like going home right now,” Henry said, not making a move to stand up.

“Then why don’t you come watch Nate’s soccer practice with us?”

Henry accepted Riley’s offered hand and stood up. “Yeah, sure.”

 Riley, Abby and Henry waved goodbye to Madison as they continued on toward the soccer fields, sitting down at the bleachers that were almost empty. They would be filled with screaming parents and crying infants during the game the next day.

Nate and the rest of the soccer team were running laps around the field. Throughout their drills, Riley kept her eyes focused on the players. The determined looks on their faces. The way the coach encouraged the team members. The cheers when someone scored and the laughter as feet connected with the ball, sending it soaring up into the air. Tryouts were soon, and she'd be participating in them this year. She couldn't wait. 

Riley couldn't help but remember the days in the backyard of their old house when her parents would sit on the steps, watching Riley play soccer with her brother. Her dad would garden sometimes, and her mom would always walk with Abby in the grass, back when she was just outgrowing crawling. Their mom would stand behind her, holding both of her arms and encouraging her to get up again whenever she fell. 

Riley's throat still grew tight when she thought about it. Mark and Judy were great, and Riley loved them both, but it just wasn't the same.

It had been nearly three years, but the pain had never quite faded.

Riley heard a loud laugh from down on the field and shook her head to clear her thoughts. Beside her, Henry anxiously bit down on one of his fingernails. Riley shook her head. "Be careful. They'll get messed up like that."

"Huh?" Henry muttered, distracted. He lowered his hand.

"Are you still thinking about him?" Riley asked, knowing she wouldn't have to say who. 

Henry nodded, putting his hands in his lap.

"Why don't you just tell your mom?" He shook his head.

"Nah, I don't want to make her worry."

Riley looked down at the field again. "Know how that feels," she told him in a low voice. He tilted his head to look at her.

"Would you tell your mom?" He looked at her earnestly. 

Near them, Abby jumped up and began clapping, unaware of their conversation. Riley propped her foot up on the bench below her, glaring at her sneakers. "I don't have one. We stay with our parents' friends."

"What do you mean you don't have one?"

Riley was all too aware of the stare Henry was giving her. She ducked her head and gave him a sidelong glance. "She's dead. Same with my dad."

She was surprised at how her voice sounded. It was blunt, and it didn't sound anything like how she usually sounded at all. Henry didn't say anything for several moments. He looked away from her.

"Sorry," he finally told her.

"It's okay. It's not your fault," said Riley.

Everyone told her she'd get past it, and she could move on, like her parents dying was a toy that had been broken or a rug that someone had spilled their drink on. 

Henry reached across and put his hand on her shoulder. He didn't press her for details or say anything that he thought would make her feel better. And for now, Riley figured, that was enough.