Fyrefall (Phoebe and the Wanderers, Book 1)

7 - Fight

The next morning I was still cursing Alexander. But he didn’t reappear. And there was a buzz in the air — the kind of buzz that had been spreading like a virus for the last couple of days. It was the simmering excitement that somebody, somewhere was going to get hurt, and that watching it happen was going to be lots of fun.

On my way to lunch Charlotte marched past me, knocking me sideways with her it-bag. “Out of my way! I need to see this fight in the gym.”

“What’s the big deal about a fight?” I shouted back.

Over her shoulder she gave me a withering glare. “Wake up and smell the frappucino, Phoebe.” I had to strain to catch her words as she headed out of range. “It’s Liam McLane and the new boy — Andrew, Aaron, or something.”

My heart walloped the inside of my ribcage. “Alexander?”

“Whatever,” she called back. “But Liam’s been on fire lately, and when that poor handsome new boy gets creamed, I plan on being the one tending to his wounds!”

The gym was down by the playing fields. It had been built new last year. But when I got there, I knew straight away something was wrong. Windows were smashed, the doors hung off their hinges. Keep Out Signs and yellow tape were strewn across the gound where, someone had torn them down. Inside it was standing room only.

The dance mirrors lining one wall were cracked and smashed. Lockers had their doors broken off and graffiti was scrawled across the floor and walls.

I got wedged at the back of the crowd, but I could see two boys that I barely knew, friends of Liam, one red-haired and the other one shaved to a number-one buzz-cut, standing arms-folded trying to look mean. Liam was behind them leaning against the wall, fiddling with a butterfly knife. He didn’t need to try and look mean. He just was.

Facing Liam, with his back to the crowd, stood Alexander. I could see his face reflected in the mirrors. He didn’t look scared. Clearly he didn’t know Liam very well.

 Liam tossed his knife in the air, caught it and uncurled himself lazily from the wall.

A ripple went through the crowd, and a few phones beeped — bets being exchanged. With three against one, the odds for Alexander didn’t look good.

Alexander made an I-don’t want-to-fight gesture with his hands. Liam’s sneer suggested he didn’t give a damn what Alexander wanted.He waved his knife and a couple of girls in the crowd squealed.

“I just want to help you,” Alexander said. Was he nuts? Why would he want to help Liam? Everyone knew Liam was a lost cause.

“I told you,” Liam snapped. “I don’t want your help.”

“What do you want, then?”

“I want to teach you a lesson.” Liam uncurled lazily from the wall and signalled to his hench-men. “Hold him down lads.” Baldie and the red-head stepped forwards and made for Alexander, one on each side.

The crowd fell silent. No one would intervene and risk getting on the wrong side of Liam. I pushed against the bodies in front of me, trying to squeeze through, but I got penned in behind a pair of sweaty seventh-formers. As I stomped on the back of their heels to get them to shift, the crowd gasped and I saw Alexander spring, feet together onto the bench, where he crouched for a second. As the red-head lunged, Alexander sprang again, arms reaching high. His hands curled around one of the metal beams that ran along the ceiling. His feet lifted from the bench. He bent his arms, chinning himself up and swinging forwards. His feet slammed hard into the red-head’s face.

The boy fell back, clutching a bleeding nose.

Alexander swung down and the skin-head made a grab for his feet. Alexander loosened one hand from the bar, twisting out of reach. He pitched forwards, his body carving an arc, half-turning in the air. He let go the other hand and landed on the boy’s back, fingers digging into the boy’s eyes. The skin-head staggered. They struck the other row of lockers together. Alexander’s feet hit the ground, balanced and solid. He grabbed the boy’s hair, yanked his head back and slammed it, crack, into the locker door. The skin-head slumped to the floor.