The Coldwater Crisis

4) A Bowling Ball With A Vendetta

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Brendan hisses toward Nick, who has managed to spill the entire tray of iced-coffee all over him, resulting in the drink splashing in his hair, soaking through his clothing and trickling down to his shoes.

Customers begin to inspect the scene, their beady eyes locked on the drama as if it were a reality TV show, forgetting that there is no screen in front of them and that we know they are watching.

"Hey!" Gen explodes, stepping from behind the counter, finding herself in the middle of the room. "Don't shout at him like that." She demands, glaring at him strongly, her fists clenched.

"Gen..." I warn, not wanting the situation to escalate.

"No, Nat, this isn't fair." She turns to me, snapping her palm up sharply. "You! You put your foot out to trip him." Gen points at Jacob who throws his hands up in defence, shaking his head, still with his signature smirk, he appears oddly amused. Now really is not the time for that.

"Gen, nobody likes a liar." Brendan, iced-coffee dripping from his hair advances toward Gen, an inch away from her face, towering over her petite physique; the sight was threatening. Locking his vivid blue eyes with hers, piercing into her soul, he whispers something in her ear, I couldn't make out the words, but from the reaction of both party's, I can only assume it wasn't great. Her face flushes pink as she stares down at the floor, holding her hands behind her back, as if in shame.

Reina strides out from behind the counter, although small, she makes her presence known. "Brendan, what are you doing?" She snaps, beginning to shake slightly.

"Are you stupid Reina, or have you lost your mind, again?" He whips around to face Reina, pointing harshly into her face. "Just because you are my sister, doesn't mean you and your stupid little friends get a free pass to screw me over." He does a full 360, gesturing to each one of us. His jet black hair contrasting against the colour of the light coffee. I'll admit, he looks terrifying.

"Nick spilled a drink. A cold drink. What is your problem?" Reina asks, her voice wavering with desperation, trying to find the answer, or some magical switch to turn off the aggression.

"My problem? My problem Reina, is you, him, her and her." He points at all of us in turn. But lastly at Gen, putting such toxicity on the word that I feel myself grimace.

"Dude, just let it go, it's not that big of a deal." Matt urges, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to drag him away and defuse the tension.

"Let it go? I am always being told what to let it go and you know what? I am sick of it." He shrugs off Matt's hand just as soon as it was placed, not turning to face him. Instead, he was keeping his eyes fixed firmly on us.

"Look Brendan, I'm sorry." Nick hesitates, before taking a small, yet confident move toward Brendan.

"That's enough out of you!" Brendan lunges at Nick, his palms hitting Nick's shoulder's with such force, resulting in his body jerking backward into a thankfully unoccupied table. The salt and pepper shakers spill over the floor, however, Nick manages to steady himself. I audibly gasp.

"What the hell do you think you are doing." Nick retorts, shoving Brendan back, harder. Mocking Brendan's earlier usage of 'hell', you would have thought that he, out of all people, would have chosen a stronger word.

"Shutting you up." He snarls, connecting his fist with Nick's head, sending him flying backward onto the floor. Nick brings a hand up to his nose, blood dripping down, he inspects the crimson colour running down his hand, then using his sleeve he smears it away.

Reina rushes into the back like lightning, just before I get time to gauge her reaction. Although, because the happenings in front of us are so dire, everyone appears to forget and nobody chases after her. We have to end this now.