I Fly Kicked The Bad Boy

Chp 5

Ezra Jeong is nothing but a pest - at least that's what I once assumed. As It turns out there's a softer side to him. That or I hallucinated this afternoon's events and I'm in his murder dungeon.

I awaken at sunset burrowed into a sheet of soft linen. Fluttering my lids tiredly, I scan bright and unfamiliar room around me.

It appeared clean and new, but seemed sort of dull as it contained only a few pieces of furniture including a desk, bed and set of draws.

With no memorabilia or character in sight, I figured it might've been a guest room. That is until The light directed me to a chair in the corner of the room. On it sat a colossal pile of unironed clothes. No, I thought. This room belongs to someone.

No one leaves clothes on a single chair like that unless outside the ages of twelve and twenty five.

I step out of bed and into the dimly lit hallway. Pressing my hand against the wall, I use it as a sort of guide so that I don't bump into anything. It is then that I notice the walls, which are shrouded with thickly, framed pictures. I can barely make the contents out, but they appear to be portraits of a happy family with two small blonde children but no sight of Ezra, who is a brunette.

Without much notice, the lights suddenly turn on and a mysterious figure enters the hallway. By reflex I spin around quickly to preform a chigi punch when I suddenly topple into the wall. I guess I'm still dizzy and weak from getting a concussion.

"Woah. Careful." Ezra rushes over to my aid but I instinctively put my hand to his chest to signal that I'm okay.

"I'm fine." I sigh, exasperatedly.

"Are you sure? It looked like  you were having a seizure."

I furrow my eyebrows at him. "No I was just - actually you know what? never mind. What time is it? where am I?"

Ezra scratches the back of his head. "My house."

"You didn't bring me here to kill me? Did you?"

Ezra bursts into laughter and the skin around his eyes crinkles inward. I'd honestly go as far as to call it kind of cute, if only it wasn't Ezra Jeong I was talking about. "If you had asked me before, maybe. But rumour has it you're the most dangerous kid in school, so I think I would end up being the one murdered."

"Well, I definitely live up take the kid in school part." I joke. As I do, I receive a snootful of something suspicious. "Whats that... smell?"

"Smell?... oh yeah... you must be talking about my mums cooking... " He waves his hand over his nose. "Yeah, it's left overs from Thorrablot. We had it for dinner."

"Thorrablot?"

"Icelandic festival."

"That explains your mums accent." I say. "Hey it's getting dark, I should probably get home or my parents will freak out."

"Do you need a lift home."

"No it's fine my brother can - and my phones dead." I stare my phone and sigh exasperatedly.

"Mum, I'm going to take Willy home."

"Wait one minute." The tall blonde lady suddenly comes rushing into the room. She retrieves a small box of tablets and places them into my hand.

"Thank you! But.... Whats is it?" I ask.

"Just some ibuprofen. It'll help with the pain."  She says. "If you still have a headache maybe take some paracetamol instead - I'll see if I have any -"

"Mum. She'll be okay." Ezra says.

The blonde lady nods. "Alright. It's nice to see you bring home a girl for me for once."

Ezra simply rolls his eyes and I smile awkwardly. Is Ezra being called a slut by his own mother?

"Come. We should get going before it gets dark." Ezra says and I follow him to his car.

-

The car ride is long and awkward. Even though we got along before, it's hard keeping up a conversation with someone you know is your enemy. That or I'm just to exhausted to think of anything to say.

I pull down the hatch back mirror to have a peak at my appearance.The blood that drizzled my face and neck, and onto my shirt like a sweat stain has now dried, leaving behind a trail of flakey bits. There is also a large purple gash forming around my nose and left eye area where the ball landed the first and subsequently, the hardest.

I feel hideous sitting next to the best looking boy in school with my face and clothes like this. But I guess this is sort of what I put Ezra through and maybe I deserve it. I know what he did to me was cruel but I don't think kicking him in the face was the right response. Especially now that I know how much it hurts to get hit there.

"How's your nose." Ezra asks. I peer over at him and shrug.

"It's seen better days. What about yours?"

He laughs. "I was waiting for you to ask... Well it's defiantly broken."

"I'm really sorry about... you know.... kicking you in the face and stuff."

"No. I probably deserved it. I'm sorry for throwing food at you."

My eyes lighten up. Did Ezra Jeong just accept responsibility for his actions and apologise? Is there really a brain underneath that thick layer of skull? Am I hallucinating?

"Don't act so shocked. I'm not an idiot you know." He chuckles.

"I'm not." I lie. "I just never realised you knew or at least accepted that what you were doing wasn't... you know, nice."

"Well, I guess I wasn't really thinking about what I was doing or if it hurt others. I realised pretty soon that that if getting kicked in the face is the reaction my behaviour warrants than I guess I must be pretty shitty." He replies.

Ezra suddenly unwinds the window. I shiver at the cool breeze which blows against my bare arms. Looking closely, I can see the tiny hairs on my arm stick up from the goosebumps now forming.

"Sorry. The dash board keeps digging up and I can't see." He says. "There's a jumper in the back seat that you can wear."

I immediately grab the enormous jumper and place it over my body. I never realised how much larger Ezra was than me and it really shows now that I'm wearing his hoodie. He's built like an Olympic swimmer and I'm built like a... well, tiny person.

I press the soft sleeve against my nose and get a snootful if his scent. Lynx Africa spray and laundry detergent. It's nothing I didn't expect from a teenage boy but at least he's cleaner than most of the boys I know, including my brothers.

It's another five minutes before we arrive at my house.

"Is this it." He says as he pulls up to my front curb.

"Yeah." I reply. "Thank you so much for this afternoon. I probably would have fainted in that car park if it weren't for you."

"Don't mention it. See ya around, Wilma."

I get out of the car waving goodbye to Ezra and he waves back as he pulls out back into the road. It's only then that I realise two things.

One: I'm still wearing Ezra's sweat shirt

And two: he just called me by my actually name, not Willy