Page 20 of Twisted Lies

“Fight! Fight! Fight!”

“Show me the blood!”

The crowd jostles each other like a massive wave blocking out the sky above. I’m caught in the fury as I’m swept side to side by bodies longing for pain and payback. Stonehaven has never felt more alive. More familiar.

The rage twists the two boys’ faces, and I never knew how much they hated one another. Wyatt strikes the first blow—right into Pierce’s fat mouth. His head is thrown back with a snapping motion as the screaming hits a screeching crescendo. Pierce rotates his head in a circle, working out the pain. He’s wobbly but glaring at Wyatt as he tosses out a jab that doesn’t connect. That’s on purpose—his strategy to bring Wyatt’s defenses down. Someone shouts, demanding another blow, and that’s distraction enough for Pierce to land a hard punch in Wyatt’s chest. Hunching over, Wyatt stumbles back and remains bent over with a destructive look in his eyes. Pierce smirks as he keeps his form, but Wyatt looks like a young lion ready to rip Pierce into bloody shreds.

“How’s the bank account, Wyatt?” Pierce goads him. “Does it match your IQ yet?”

Pierce flinches when Wyatt snarls, showing his teeth, and he’ll have to do better to beat Wyatt. Someone screams as Wyatt lunges forward and grabs Pierce in a headlock. Several fast blows pummel into Pierce’s gut as Pierce strikes Wyatt’s legs. They’re locked tight as they struggle to get in another hook.

Above the mayhem, a deep voice roars a stern command, and the crowd instantly splits in two. Kids fall away and scatter in all directions as if blown away on a breeze. Dr. Rawlins appears with Gary in the circle.

“Stop this immediately!” shouts Dr. Rawlins, “Are you both mad?”

A security guard pulls Wyatt off while Gary grabs Pierce by the upper arms. Pierce’s nose is bleeding, and his pressed cotton shirt is decorated with spatters of blood. Wyatt tosses his head back, displaying a red mark underneath his bruised eye.

“Both of you get to my office.” Dr. Rawlins spins around, eyeing each member of the mob with a look that should’ve made us all fall down at her feet. “Get to class, all of you. I won’t say it again.”

Kids start running as if competing for a gold trophy, and I run along with them. I begin to laugh, feeling joyful that Wyatt landed a punch on that bitch boy. Sure, he’s in trouble with Rawlins, but it was worth watching his fist make contact. I turn when I feel someone touch my shoulder.

“What a fucking mess,” laughs Roni, “I’d sit in detention for a month to see that again.”

“Fuck,” I reply, “I forgot to use my phone.”

“I didn’t,” replies Roni, darting off toward her building, “Fifty other kids and I will share it later on social.” We wave goodbye as we hurry off toward our classes.

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