Fly High | ✅

24 | Under his rotten wings

◈A D R I A N◈

"Welcome to the pack," Damon rose from his bow and gestured to his back.

At least a dozen of unfamiliar faces turned to look at me with wary gazes. Some with mouths stuffed with burgers and fries. A skinhead guy with colourful tattoos swirled in his scalp sneered at me, his lips pulled back from the mouth of a Coke bottle.

I couldn't help but to feel as if I had stepped on a landmine. Any wrong moves and I'll be good as dead. My Adam's apple bobbed up and down nervously.

What was that called again? Out of the sizzling grill and into the hyena's den?

Whatever it was, my instinct went off like a siren as it warned me about this flight-or-die situation. Before I could make a sprint for it, something yellow flew to my direction.

I vaguely heard someone called out "Catch!" before the unidentified object whizzed through the air and closing in rapidly on my face.

My hand shot up and grabbed it almost reflexively, barely missing the impact. Turned out it was the promised burger with ketchup oozing out from the force of my grip.

Damon whooped, "Nice reflex, man!" He slid towards me on his skateboard and slapped my back appreciatively. "You've got some moves. Better than you, Zax," he taunted and smirked at his friend.

Zax narrowed his eyes, fire lit in them as he popped his joints in a challenging manner. I took a step back instinctively but Damon kept his hand splayed on my back, preventing me from retreating like a coward.

"Hold your ground," he whispered when I looked up at him. He shot me a wink and said nothing else.

"Really?" Zax's boots sent up a flurry of dirt in his wake as he prowled in confidence. He halted before me and bent his back with both his palms on his knees as if he was talking to a child. Since I was a head shorter than him, his shadow easily shrouded me in darkness.

"Mind teaching me some of that?" he asked nicely with a smile that didn't really reached his eyes. The rest of the pack got down from the concrete deck and circled us, awaiting for the fight to happen.

"I–I can't," I stuttered lamely.

Anticipation wormed its way through the silence as Zax and I remained unmoving after my pathetic reply. I didn't dare to move a muscle, afraid Zax might tackle me out of reflex. Meanwhile, Damon moved his hand from my back to my shoulders.

I couldn't appreciate Damon's gesture because rather than being supportive, my sixth sense told me it was to infuriate Zax even more. I was proven right when I saw Zax's jaws ticked at the sight of Damon's arm casually hung over my shoulders. 

He straightened to his full height and glanced down at me, his fists gripped tight. I tried not to cower but my head flinched instinctively as Zax raised his arm.

It was as if the world had slowed down, everything seemed to crawl by the seconds but my mind raced through my thoughts. Synapses sparked and signalled my body into preparing for defense.

I waited for my feet to sprint or my fists to ball but something entirely different happened instead.

My stomach growled.

Loud enough for Zax to hear, loud enough to stump him as his fist stopped mid-swing.

Damon looked as perplexed but was quick to regain his composure as he guffawed while smacking on my back.