Hey! It's Me

FOUR

FOUR

"Well good God Perth! You could have given us a warning" Gun pushed a wet cloth into his friend's busted lip making the other cringed.

"I told you I will handle him" Perth squinted. Still shaking. His adrenaline must have soared so high it had yet to settle down thus making him dizzy.

Mark snorted "All you said was TOMMOROW bud. That didn't include you marching into the Arts campus alone, unarmed and obviously out of your mind"

"I was ready" He breathe out, rather annoyed at his hovering friends.

"For Trump and ten of his cohorts, yes. But not when they're like twenty of them" Mark added.

Champ, a senior to them, happened to drop by their camp, took his chin up and studied his wound "Well just look at that. Our young boss finally got a booboo for the first time in like what? Two years. I am proud" he cracked when the annoyed Perth slapped his hand away.

"He can do all twenty of them alright. He was just distracted" Mean who was at the corner and was reading a book finally spoke.

"What?" Tum and the rest of the guys suddenly fell silent with interest.

Perth of course shoot his best friend a heated glare, as if telling him to shut up before he'd do something he'd regret. Of course Mean recognizes the threat. He knows Perth well enough when and where to shut his damn mouth when he needs to.

Holding his hands up as a sign of defeat "I'm not saying anything. Just you getting distracted"

Perth threw the towel he had been pressing into his lips and stood up. He needed to go somewhere.

"Call me when something happens. I'm skipping school" he said before walking out alone. He had given Mean a look. As if pleading to leave him alone. Mean huffed at him but understanding why.

Inside his car Perth slammed his hand repeatedly at the steering wheel in frustration. Life must have been really mad at him for allowing this to happen. Why in the world would Saint be there in the exact time when he has his hand around Trump's neck while slamming him to a wall like a ragdoll?

---

He just gotten to take down everyone else's of Trump's side and was on Trump himself when the oh-so-glorious-looking Saint with his hair bouncing like a soft silk and cheeks glowing like a pink cotton candy appeared in the corner with his smile so bright it made Perth lose concentration.

The next thing he knew was he's down on the floor with a piercing ache on his right lip. But that didn't matter at all because what he saw made his heart ripped to pieces again. He witness the smile on Saint's lips vanished as soon as he saw him. The eyes that speaks of innocence suddenly turned scared and alarmed.

In the midst of chaos, when the rest of his friends came down to fight his fight. Perth was just there, with his bleeding lips he stood and watch Saint take a few steps back, too frightened at the sight of fighting men.

Yes, to Saint he had always been a bad guy. An ill-tempered friend who protects him because he just wants to beat someone. He wanted to grab him and hold him. Tell him that this was just all bad timing. He wasn't supposed to be there. Saint was not supposed to witness this. This was not the best time to meet again.

Should he leave it at that? With Saint probably thinking that he is the same bad guy years before?

"Oh fuck this" Perth had a quick realization. He had easily given up his friendship with Saint Years ago. But that doesn't mean he would do the same now.