Medusa Was A Teenager

Whack-A-Tim:

It technically wasn't my fault—everything that happened—but it also wasn't technically not my fault either.

Max was behind me the whole time, literally. He'd kept his hand on my lower back, keeping me near as we tried to push our way through the crowd. Ophelia was yelling, and people were screaming for more, and I couldn't see anything, but Max could, and I trusted him to get us where we needed to be.

"What can you see?" I call over the noise, accidentally backing into him as someone pushed in front of us. On a reflex, I begin to mutter "sorry", but Max just reaches passed me and pushes a hole through the people in front of me.

We're closer to the middle now; I feel a pair of lips next to my ear. "Don't apologize for things that aren't your fault," they whisper. He chuckles when I catch myself apologizing again.

"Oh, June. What am I going to do with you?" he asks, gently nudging me through the hole he created.

Ophelia is being held back by two girls in the grade below us, two juniors named Todd and Katelynn. She's yelling and crying, trying to break free from them. I look to where her gaze was pointed; her twin brother, Timothy, was on the ground in the center of the circle, rubbing his jaw. He spits a gob of blood onto the pavement and his nose is bleeding terribly, but other than a few other scrapes and bruises, he seems alright.

What wasn't alright is Hence, who's standing menacingly over him like some sort of DC supervillain.

I look over my shoulder at Max, who gives me a simple nod, and we're running in opposite directions: him to Tim, and me to Ophelia.

"June, please—please tell Max to get him to stop. Please. I don't want Hence to hurt my brother anymore," Ophelia cries, going slack in Todd's arms, all the fight leaving her at the same time. I nod to the girls and they settle my best friend into my arms, and I just hold her. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Max is in the process of talking Hence down.

Timothy is still on the ground, watching everything unfold with a dazed look. His mouth is ruddy with smeared blood; when he spits again, I can see his tongue poking around in his mouth, like an animal probing at an aching tooth, which he probably had plenty of.

I return my attention to Ophelia, who has calmed down a bit and is wiping at her nose with her jacket sleeve.

"Ophelia," I say to her, trying to bring her out of her own head, "Are you okay? We're going to go get Tim, okay? Max is playing Distraction for us. Are you okay enough to do this?"

She immediately straightens, stepping away from me. With another wipe of her jacket sleeve and a tug on the bottom hem of her tank top, she nods. Grabbing her hand, we slink our way through the crowd until we make it behind her brother. He's lying on his back with an arm thrown over his eyes.

"Hey, Timmy," I say when we are directly behind him, and he only groaned in response. Hence was yelling at Max, unintelligible words that I couldn't understand from where I was, but from Max's facial expressions, I could see that he didn't believe a word. His eyes glanced our way as Hence started to wave his arms, occasionally gesturing back at us. I gave him a reassuring smile.

'Phelia was next to her brother in a flash. He sat up slightly, turning his body away from his sister, who was asking countless questions and trying to coddle him.

"What are you two doing here? June, you'll get hurt," Timothy grunts through red teeth.

Ophelia rolls her eyes and sits back on her legs, "Thanks."