Rest Your Love On Me {Tradley Story}

Chapter Ten

16th January 

Bradley held Mickaël firmly in his hands as he glanced at the young French girl who was still lying on the floor, unconscious. Blood slowly flowing from his nose and now from his forehead frightening the curly.

- What did you done to her, son of a bitch ?! cried Bradley.
- This whore has to learn respect.
- Wait, what did you say there?
- She's a whor ...

He didn't finish his sentence, because the curly anger and fear sent his fist into his face again. He was unleashed, because there, it was the drop of too much. That he was going after him, he was used to it, but that this bully was going after Iris, hitting and insulting her there, he couldn't accept this.

Mickaël quickly returned the blows to Bradley and the two rolled in the snow exchanging insults and punches.

A little further on, two teenagers were walking quietly talking about their chemistry assignment, which they understood nothing about. They laughed at what their teacher would look like as a woman, but they froze when they saw the scene before them.

James rushed to Iris's side.
Tristan rushed to Bradley's side.

He took Mickaël by the shoulders and threw him as far as possible from his young friend who had a bloody face, just like the other idiot.

- Evans, get out of here, shouted the attacker.
- You asshole, why do you take it out on my friends huh? said Tristan, striding towards him.
- Be involved in what concerns you.
- That's my business ! You want me to piss you off because you need it.

The brute tried to hit the tall blond, but the latter intercepted his gesture and turned his arm behind his back, making the other moan in pain.

- Hey what's going on here? cried a supervisor, arriving.
- Now that the spy is coming, thought Bradley bitterly.

Why do adults always arrive too late? The young curly got up legs trembling slightly and Tristan did not let go of Mickaël.

James had made the first gestures of help towards Iris by taking her pulse, checking if she was breathing and had placed her in the lateral safety position.     Besides, she slowly regained consciousness.

 - This asshole attacked Iris! cried Bradley out of his mind.
- How is she ? asked the supervisor at James.
- She comes back slowly among us.
- Tristan, you let go and Mickaël, I'll take you immediately to the director. James when she's ready to walk, you take her to the infirmary and Bradley, you follow. Did you all understand me?
- Yes.

Mickaël insulted the spy while walking furiously. Iris straightened while holding her head. She jumped when she saw James staring at her with her big blue eyes.

- You feel better ? he asked in a soft voice.

The tone of his voice contrasted with the immense anger he felt towards the captain of the football team. He wanted to strangle him for daring to raise her hand on a girl. In addition, the girl who made his heart beat at high speed.

- My head and throat hurt.
- I'll take you to the infirmary.
- Bradley, I'll take you too, said Tristan, turning to the little curly boy.
- I can go alone, you know.
- I come.

The four teenagers therefore went to the infirmary. The two women looked after the two injured. Bradley had simply had a nose and mouth bleed from the beatings he had received, he had cleaned up and had taken a painkiller.

Iris had also bled from the nose from the violent slap. As she fell, she cut her forehead, but nothing too serious. However, she had been unwell because her attacker had cut her breathing and her brain, lacking oxygen for a few moments, had disconnected.

- Boys, you can go back to class, said the older of the two. I'll make you late tickets. As for you, my great, you are going to stay a little longer with us to see if there is nothing else.
- We can stay, James replied immediately.
- Young man, she is not in danger not worth worrying about. Go to class now.

She handed them fuchsia pink tickets and made them leave. They walked in silence to their chemistry class. Much to their despair.

***

Bradley still hadn't heard from Iris, he was so worried. He had explained the situation with Tristan and James, who were also very upset by Mickaël's behavior. He had been excluded for ten days for his behavior. Bradley and Tristan had a warning.

The curly man quickly entered his class of French literature and sighed when he saw the friends of his enemy already installed.

- We don't want a faggoy here!
- He's going to rape one of us.
- So the whore was fucked too much to come?
- Shut up your fucking mouths assholes, said the young man coldly, taking his place. And for your information, Iris is anything but not a whore. She doesn't need to put a can of paint on her face to attract intent.
- The cans of paint as you say, are good.
- Yeah good at repainting your ass heads.

The now full class stared at Bradley. He was usually calm, shy and reserved, but what happened put him in a state of aggression. And he didn't care that his outspoken frankness he was using for once bothered him.

- Silence! exclaimed the professor as she entered. Well, I asked you all to do your research, so who can cite two French authors from the 19th century? And one of their works?

Bradley raised his hand and was the only one out of twenty students.

- Oh Bradley, I listen to you, smiled the big redhead.
- There is Emile Zola with Nana for example. And Victor Hugo with Les Misérables.
- Very good. So as it seems that you are the only one to have worked, we will take these two authors for our next assignment. I want everyone for next week to write me the biography of one of these two authors and only in French, forbidden to put a single word in English!

The group of idiots had understood nothing. Then Lewis said:

- Oh shit duty. This matter sucks.
- If it sucks as you say why did you take this option?
- It earns extra points for the newsletter.
- Give me an author from the 19th century.
- Shakespeare, he smiled.
- William Shakespeare is firstly an English author and secondly, he dates from the 16th century, she said severely. For the trouble Lewis and your two friends who never follow my lessons, you will give me the biographies of Emile Zola, Victor Hugo, and William Shakespeare and the three in French. I want them next Thursday on my desk!
- You believed ...
- And, I offer you five hours of detention, each. Don't let me take you back to making inappropriate remarks to other students or to my lesson. Everyone opens their manual page one hundred and thirty-three. Exercise A, B and H.

***

Bradley was exhausted. He hadn't seen her best friend of the day, but she sent him a message saying that the nurses told her to go home, which she did. Then, he avoided Mickaël's band as much as possible, because the three boys stared at him with a bad expression on his face.
              He had lunch with Connor, Claire, James and Tristan. His nerves had been softened in the company of the tall blond who was trying to relax him because he was still tense.

The long distance running courses had completed it being his last class of the day.

Bradley was quietly walking down the street to get home. He went through the bakery to take a pistachio eclair - his favorite - then resumed his journey. He did not like winter, because it was fast night and the road was poorly lit.

Suddenly, he heard laughter behind him. He accelerated to go home. The laughter came closer.

A shock happened.
Pain spread through the head of the curly man.
Then darkness enveloped him.