Smoke Fight Ride

Chapter 5

"You're like the plague, you know that?" Kit says failing to contain his fury. If he had blood to spare it might fill his heated cheeks to boiling point.

"Naw, thank you, I feel so bad for not preparing a compliment in return." His ears burn fuschia as he attempts to hide his astonishment.

Billie rises, radiating with confidence unlike Kit who has a minor hunchback stance, "Don't get fresh with me, you broke my nose before even asking anything about me—"

"Cool it Jet Li, you're not dead, are you?" She interrupts unashamed whilst removing her black biker jacket and slinging it over her shoulder singlehandedly, closing the gap among them.

He can almost count all the flecks of yellow and green in her iris as she jerks her chin up. "I'm Thai, not Chinese, you racist."

Still unfazed she bites back, head inching closer as she does, "Asian or not. You bled a bit, now you're fine. Deal with it." Billie makes it sound simple mocking him which he did not stand for.

One last effortless wink, she whisks past him filling his senses with a fruity fragrance as their arms involuntarily graze making his core tighten.

Where does she get the guts to act this way?

A few seconds after her departure, Kit unroots his feet and follows the same path she takes waving away pockets off smoke she exhales trying his best to hold in coughs.

He has to do something, show her that he won't stand to be treated this way, he ducks into cross sections whenever she peers back although he gathers she's aware of his presence.

He exits the front entrance after her where a polished vintage Mustang pulls up on the pedestrian crossing several paces ahead of him. "You telling me I gotta do this every afternoon until you graduate?" A frustrated female yells over the engines uneven splutters.

Billie flips her off and clamours into the passenger seat, by the time the car roars to life and after a few revs she calls out to him focusing straight ahead eyes covered by sunglasses, "You know my friend here is a surgeon, you should call her up when you need to remove that stick up your ass, Jackie Chan!"

The wheels propel forward out of sight as echoes of laughter meet Kit who is left by his lonesome again, biting his tongue. Yeah you better run, he thought knowing well and true if she appeared in front of him right now he'd be too scared to do anything.

*

On a normal day, Kit would arrive home by five o'clock and according to his mother's preassigned schedule have enough time to eat dinner, shower, study, organise his books and clothes for tomorrow while curfew is maintained at a ten pm time slot... but not today.

He arrives at the bus stop on the corner street of his address, the sun masked in blankets of grey clouds spray an occasional fall of rain spotting the roads and grass as he trudges through the suburban neighbourhood.

"You better have some brilliant reason as to why you're so late Kit! I get that you're a senior an all and you're almost an adult blah blah blah, but that isn't a free pass to—" his mother freezes, the usual speech he cops whenever he disrupts her given timetable is cut short, relief flooding his conscious.

A fifty year old woman, although she appears considerably younger —thanks to Thai genetics— stands defiant, arms crossed her piercing gaze softens at Kit's unruly state.

"Oh my God! What the hell—?How in the...? Who did this?" From start to finish she displays concern, proceeding to confusion as if attacking her only son was unfathomable, then, like a switch a murderous glint flickers in her almond brown eyes as she speaks through gritted teeth.

"Calm down ma, it was an accident. Jesse and I were, uh, moving tech equipment to make room for Pop Culture Club. I copped a table corner to the nose when I misjudged the distance."

That could have been the worst excuse he came up with.

She must know he is lying, Kit can feel it. Was it convincing enough? Sure it was, it had to be or the alternative is an early death, tombstone marked, 'Here lies Kit Huang the liar, the asian, the dumbass'.

Briskly striding toward him she cups his cheeks in her hands inspecting the wound rather harsh earning many involuntary winces and grimaces on Kits behalf. "Ugh, you wanna take it easy there, ma?"

Quicker than lightning she slaps him across his head, "Hey! What the hell—"

"You will tell me who did this, Kit. You're father and I can contact the principal and get to the bottom of this, even if we have to get the police involved, we will. If you know their name, don't try to protect them they don't deserve it. Whoever did this I will see to it that they suffer the appropriate consequences, I swear—" If he let her continue she might threaten involving the president or better yet the Queen.

Once she threatened him with calling the King of Thailand to arrest him when he disobeyed her orders to stop eating chocolate after dinner.

For three months he lived in fear of being whisked away to his 'homeland' where he'd live out his remaining days imprisoned.

It might seem stupid to protect Billie but if his mother got justice for him he would never live it down.

"I swear ma, it was a table corner, I'm not the first student in school that's suffered an injury like this, y'know." His pleas are all for nought, nevertheless she drops the incident with the trademark end of conversation huff, massaging her temples.

The rain intensity increases darkening their rich brown hair in damp clumps as they dash for the threshold of their modern two storey house.