The Good, the Bad, and the Gwen | ✔️

4 - The Mandela Effect

My jaw drops as Dean covers his nose and stumbles backward, a ribbon of blood dribbling down his chin and onto his yellow shirt.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Dean yells from the ground. "No wonder Nick dumped your psycho-ass!"

With her hands on her hips, Hartley stands over him, her expression a mask of rage. "Nick did not dump me—I dumped him!" She shakes out her right hand and flinches. "God, I've been wanting to do that for a long time. I just needed a good excuse."

"Jesus, Hartley! What the hell?" Sully pushes past her and helps Dean up from the ground. By this time, half of Dean's polo is soaked in crimson. Excited voices swarm around us. We've attracted an audience.

"I think she broke my nose," Dean mutters, his voice cartoonish behind his hand. "I need to go to the hospital."

Melanie, the girl from earlier and our party hostess, appears out of nowhere. "Oh no no no! My parents are working tonight. You cannot tell them you were at our house!"

"Who cares about your parents?" Dean's narrowed gaze darts through the excited crowd. "Can someone get me a frickin' towel or something, or am I supposed to stand here and bleed to death?"

Sully scrutinizes him. "Maybe she just busted some blood vessels?"

"She broke my fuckin' nose!"

"All right, all right. Who's taking him?" Sully replies. He scans the crowd and most of them take a step back. "Come on, guys. I've had a couple of beers so it can't be me."

"Shit. I guess I'll do it." A girl with a round face full of freckles and flaming auburn hair volunteers. She hands Dean a dingy-white rag that's worn around the edges. I'm not sure where it came from. "But I swear to God, if you get blood in my car you're paying to have it detailed."

Dean's face reddens. "Fuck your car! My face is more important than your stupid Ford Fusion."

"Do you want a ride or not?" she asks. "Because I could give a shit if you walk there. It's not my job to chauffeur your dumb ass around."

Sully crosses his arms over his chest. "Just shut up and take the ride."

"Mind your own business, Reed. No one asked you."

"Oh yeah?" Sully squares his shoulders, towering over Dean by several inches. "Tell me, how does it feel to get your ass kicked by a girl, huh? You want a broken jaw to match?"

Dean's shoulders hunch as the auburn-haired girl pulls him away, muttering as they cross the yard. Our eyes follow them down the driveway until they disappear.

Melanie's eyes widen as she turns to Hartley. "Damn, girl. You messed him up!"

Hartley opens and closes her right hand. "I couldn't let him get away with it. He disrespected Gwen."

"I'm not saying I disagree, but shit! You've got bigger balls than I do." She giggles before turning to me. "Hey, Gwen! Sorry Dean was an ass. I swear, my parties don't usually turn into a bloodbath."

"It's okay," I mutter back. I glance at Hartley and shake my head, as the crowd evaporates around us. "I can't believe you did that."

"What, defend you?" she asks. "No one's gonna say shit about my best friend as long as I'm around."

A mixture of pride and horror swells in my chest. I eye her hand, clenched in a fist at her side. "Are you okay?"

Hartley shrugs as Melanie steps forward to inspect the damage. "Can I get you an ice pack?"