VOLATILE (I) : peter pan ouat

When a Conversation Happened

Day: 17

"When are you going to tell him you want to rejoin the Hunt?" Harry asks from on top of me.

I struggle beneath his tight grip, wiggling about. Today, we are working on hand to hand combat. I don't know how Harry is managing to use his size to his advantage, but somehow I've found myself on my back much more than I would have preferred. Every time I move to swoop in on him, he escapes my clutches.

I'd have an easier time catching Johnny than him, and Johnny easily has 100 pounds on me.

"Next time I see him, I guess." I grunt. "Before Max can get involved with the group anyway."

"He'll have to participate in the game we'll be playing soon, there's no way around it." He holds himself still as I squirm beneath him. "You can't keep him safe forever."

I can't seem to shake this kid off me. "When is the game? And what is it?"

He shrugs. "They say it will be in about a week. It's got something to do with the Hunt I suppose. No one knows exactly what's going on with it anyway."

Harry is concentrating his effort on my hands, which are struggling under his firm grip. I buck my hips off the ground, knocking him off me. He's slippery like soap, so when I get up and flip him he effortlessly escapes my grip.

Didn't he say he was awful at fighting without a weapon?

"Don't worry Charlie. Sooner or later you'll get the hang of it."

Maybe I'm just worse than he is. After all, I don't use grips and holds when I fight like we are now. I lead with my fists.

I wait for Harry to charge me, finding defense the only possible approach to this. There's no way I can hold him still long enough to win a fight. He walks on air, and precision is his game. I'm no match, not without bulking muscles anyway.

Harry grabs hold of me, sending me down to the ground. My hands find his shirt, and he falls with me. I use our momentum, rolling off of my back and over onto his.

I quickly straddles his chest, pinning his arms down with my knees. Harry may be an escape artist, but he's not a strongman. My grip on his will hold.

"Not bad," his breath is heavy, out of surprise or exhaustion I couldn't tell you.

He kicks up his knees into the air behind me, but his legs fall short of my back. Too small to reach up and kick me. He lifts his hips off the ground, and as I lean back to hold his legs down his slips his arms out from beneath me and flips me on to my side.

Harry rolls over to attack me, and my leg smashes into his stomach, pushing him back. He gets up, holding on to my foot and dragging me along the ground. I spin on to my front and dig my nails into the dirt, trying to pull myself away from him.

He moves a hand further up my leg, and I twist my leg to the side, flipping him on to the ground. I get up and hold up my hands, almost like a boxer.

He groans, slowly sitting. "I think that's enough for today. It's past dinner and I'm tired."

I look up at the sky, searching for the sun. "Is it really? We must've been out here for hours."

He nods his head up and down. "It's been a long day. A very, very long day."

"How did I do?" I ask.

He shrugs. "You tied with me, but remember, I'm rubbish without a knife. You got one thing going for you though."

"And what's that?" I ask, offering him a hand up.

He takes it. "You're clever, and a quick-thinker. You've got good intuition. Remember, that's no match for strength though. Don't go trying to take on anybody bigger than Alex. That'll get you nothing but trouble."