Foresight

Chapter 7

So far so good! Mike thought to himself as he walked, cautiously through the school hallway. He'd managed to wake up and get the bus on time this morning, get to school and enter the building all without bumping into Finn Gregson along the way. But, Mike had discovered, that knowing that you're going to get beaten up hours before it happens apparently made you walk around like a madman. People were starring. Mike could hardly blame them, he had looked over his shoulder at least a hundred times since entering the school, so at this point he thought that he must look like a freak to everyone else. No change there then Mike thought, his mental voice laced with internal sarcasm.

"Hey Mike!" A voice came from behind him. Mike whirled around to see Connor looking at him in surprise. "Mike it's Monday – how are you this energetic already?".

"I... um..." Mike stammered. He thought of an excuse quickly, "I'm just excited to be back at school! You know – I gotta get myself a date for prom!". He laughed nervously.

"Oh, who you gonna bring?" a voice sneered from behind him. Mike turned to see the very person he'd been avoiding – Finn Gregson. The vile boy stood in front of him, only a few inches taller, he had a very stocky build from a long school career of football and as per usual was wearing a ridiculous heavy metal band T-shirt and had his dirty-blonde hair done in a style that looked painfully dumb. Apparently, whatever 'popularity' he had was worth getting a hairstyle that made him look like he was part of an early two-thousands rock band. "Your Grandpa's walking stick?" Gregson sniggered.

Mike's blood began boiling. His fist clenched. "At least I won't be walking into the prom with roadkill on my head – or is that your hair?" Mike hissed, smirking bitterly. Gregson scowled at him.

"Did you just mock my look? Nerd?" Gregson asked, advancing forward aggressively.

Mike wasn't going to back down. He wrinkled his nose and pretended retch. "Have you been eating garlic?" Mike asked sarcastically. Everyone in the corridor was looking at them now.

"You better shut your mouth or I'll –," Gregson growled. Mike interrupted him.

"Or you'll what? You're all talk Gregson -," Mike retorted, he turned to face the crowd, "who in here has actually seen 'Flint Fist Gregson' beat up anyone? Other than his little locker teddy bear?". Nobody in the crowd said a word – all that could be heard was a few sniggers from the idea of Gregson having a toy in his locker.

Gregson was red in the face and his expression was riddled with rage. He looked ready to pounce. Mike kept on his poker-face but was screaming inside. Had he just created the future he wanted to prevent?

The school bell rang.

The crowd began to disperse. Gregson's shoulders relaxed but his face was still contorted in anger. He pointed a meaty finger at Mike. "You got lucky, Warren," he hissed before turning around and leaving. That's what you think Gregson Mike thought, sighing silently in relief. He turned back around to look at Connor. His friend was looking down at him in shock.

"I've never seen you get so aggressive before man" his friend said, "are you okay?". Mike bowed his head.

"No, I'm not – I'll tell you in the Homeroom – let's go?" Mike replied. Connor nodded and they set off down the corridor.