Knockout Boys

Chapter 20: The Challenge of Our Rival

I took a deep breath, attempting to keep panic from my voice as I listed Kevin's injuries and symptoms. "How long is the wait?" I asked the hospital receptionist, glancing back at Kevin. He was sitting against the waiting room couch, head tipped back, staring at nothing. Toddlers wailed in their parents' arms. An elderly woman groaned, clutching her belly. But the doctors had to see Kevin first. He was more important. "He needs attention now," I said.

The receptionist gave me a strained smile. "It shouldn't be more than a few minutes," she said. "I'm sorry, we're just swamped at the moment." She rubbed her eyes, smudging mascara into her dark circles. "The doctors already patched up three boys in the past hour. And your friend there," she grimaced, "Insurance is losing a fortune on him."

I blinked. "What?"

"I see him more than I see my own son," she said, shaking her head. "Please try and keep him out of trouble."

I forced a smile. "I'll do my best, ma'am." I went over to Kevin, shoulders drooped. It drove me crazy I couldn't do anything for him while we waited. "Can I get you something? Water?" I said softly, sitting down beside him. Kevin was pale and smeared with blood, but he was still beautiful, so very beautiful and fragile and precious it broke my heart to look at him. I put my hand on his uninjured knee, aching to hold him tight to my chest and never let him go.

Kevin titled his head towards me, half lidded eyes slowly focusing. He raised a hand to tug my sleeve. "Don't worry," he murmured, his eyes soft. "I'll be fine. I get into fights a lot." He took a shuddering breath, turned away and coughed something up.

An empty laugh escaped me. "Right," I muttered, unable to stop the bitterness from leaking into my voice. It was totally fine to pick fights on the daily and risk his precious life for thrills. Eventually, this lifestyle would catch up to him, and I prayed today was not that day. "I hope you had fun," I spat. "I hope it's worth this."

Kevin placed a hand over mine, and my heart skipped a beat. His fingers were cold, so cold. "I did it for you," he said hoarsely.

"Huh?" I choked out.

Kevin brought my hand to his lips. "You're my treasure," he whispered, eyelids fluttering shut. "I have to... keep you safe."

"Huh?" I felt blood rush to my face. "What? How?" I squeaked incoherently.

"Don't leave me," Kevin sighed, his head dropping on my shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of my neck. Hot breath tickled my skin. "Please. Stay."

I bit my lip, tears gathering in my eyes. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm here for you," I promised him, rubbing my thumb over his fingers to warm them. "I'm not going anywhere."

A polite cough alerted me to a woman's presence. "Kevin Alvar?" asked a tall, lanky lady wearing blue scrubs. Another woman accompanied her, wheeling out a stretcher.

"Y-yes," I stammered, shaking in relief. "Yes, that's us." The nurses helped Kevin onto the stretcher and took him away to the Emergency Room, where I couldn't follow. My shoulders slumped, and I sat back down on the couch with a sigh. My phone buzzed, and I immediately set it on silent. I was so not in the mood to deal with Mom and Dad. And I could not go home without knowing what happened to Kevin. I stood up and paced the room, went to the bathroom, and took the long way back. That's when I saw him turn the corner. The person I least wanted to see. I stopped in my tracks.

Paul stopped too. His arm was in a sling, and his right eye was swollen to comically puffed proportions. A bearded man with salt and pepper hair was by his side, a man with a muscular, stocky frame that put my Dad's pot belly to shame, and my stick figure for that matter. The man's brown eyes narrowed upon seeing me, and his mouth curving in a smirk. Paul's father. "It's the faggot," he said.