Fighting Chance

The Dirty Bird

The sudden screeching of my alarm woke me up once 6 rolled around. With a groan I slapped my phone screen until it stopped. I stayed in bed for another few moments, long enough to contemplate life and if it was worth it to get out of bed or not.

My brain nagged at me until I got up though, I have to get to work. I snatched my phone off the charger and called Mike, wandering into the backyard as it rang. Backyard is a generous title, it's more like our government allotted square of grass. Maybe when our infrastructure breaks down it's where we're supposed to pee. Like dogs.

"Spitty. What are you doin' callin' me?" Mike's voice snapped me out of my terrible train of thought.

With confusion I replied,

"To.. ask who I'm fighting tonight? It is Sunday right?" Hesitantly I checked the date on my phone. Yup, it's Sunday.

"Ohh," He chuckled, "nah kid. I knew you started up school tomorrow so I got another fighter for the night. I've got something on Monday for you though, can't keep you from your fans for too long. Freddy will pick you up from school and bring you by. See ya."

He had hung up before I could protest him booking a fight right after school. With a frustrated groan I walked back inside and decided I better go get something for dinner. Did someone say KFC?

--

Less than an hour later I arrived at the gates of heaven. KFC. The dirty bird was the only fast food worth eating. These guys have the best fucking chicken in existence. Don't come at me with your American trash either; Popeyes? Chik-fil-a? One of the other dozens over there? Ain't got shit on KFC.

Just as I got to the doors I had the unfortunate realisation that I recognised that car I just passed. I did a double take to confirm it.

"What the fucking fuck?" I mumbled under my breath. My fucking shoe was on her dash. On display for all to see.

I looked down at myself, still wearing the same bright orange hoodie she had seen me in before. Was the chicken worth it? Yes it was. I took of my jumper and tied it around my waist as I walked in, hopefully it was less noticeable this way.

I got in line and let my eyes wander as I waited. Then they landed on familiar black hair of the lady who has my fucking shoe. I had time to observe her this time, she was stunning. Beautiful blue eyes narrowed languidly situated above a charming smile; both of which were directed at her phone. It gave me a weird feeling, jealousy? No. Why would I be jealous I don't even know this woman. Besides if she's trapped in her phone she won't look up and see me. I found myself staring at her, unable to take my eyes away. That's why I knew exactly when she recognised who I was.

Her eyes looked up and locked directly on me, she flicked her gaze downwards—to my hoodie—and immediately back up. Fucking hell, she knows.

Doing my best to ignore her and act naïve I slowly put my hoodie back on and ordered my food. Please let the workers tonight be the fastest crew in existence. As innocently as I could I looked back in her direction. She was still fucking staring at me. Her adorable smile had fallen to a frown. I felt myself shrink in her gaze, she knows my face now.

"Order 69?"

"Yup that's me!" I rushed to the counter and made my way out as fast as I could without looking guilty to onlookers. Before I walked away I checked the bag they handed me—life lesson: always do this, don't feel guilty for taking everything you owe from big business—and noticed they forgot my apple juice. I stood there like an idiot, contemplating going back in instead of continuing my escape.

"Hey, you in the hoodie." A voice I was becoming all too familiar with rang out behind me. I didn't dare turn around and face her, instead I answered to the open air in front of me.

"Sorry Miss. I'm not allowed to talk to strangers." I took her scoff as my sign to get away, but a hand was placed on my shoulder before I could take more than three steps. It was a firm grip, but not threatening. Soft almost.

"If you turn around, I'll give you your shoe back." Her tone had gone from anger to slight amusement. Now this I could get used to hearing. Shut up Finley.

"No thank you. I know you'll just call the cops." With that statement I bolted, shouting back to her, "I didn't touch your car! Your tire was flat."

God damn I am doing a lot of running lately, and you know, if I had a nickel for every time I was running away from someone and shouting about flat tires I'd have two nickels. That's not a lot, but it's funny that it happened twice.

As I was starting to run out of breath I noticed the town park across the road from me. So I sat down on a bench, ate my now cold chicken and hoped for peace.

I really wasn't looking forward to school tomorrow, this lady harassing me must be a teacher if her car was there. God I hope I don't see her around. Maybe she was just a parent checking out the campus, it's plausible right? Right?

I threw my rubbish on top of the too-full trash can and began my trek home. If there's any god out there, please keep me away from that woman.