Page 49 of Hits Different

“I just need you to make the first move, man”, I say quietly, “So that when I kick your ass, I can tell the cops it was self-defence”.

I meet him right in the eye, and after what feels like an eternity, he blinks first. “Let’s get out of here”, he mutters.

I turn back to Kelly when suddenly two things happen at once. Brandon bursts through the entrance door, hair wet from the rain outside. Before I can speak, I catch sight of a bottle sailing through the air. Right at me.

It lands by my feet with a smash. There’s a split-second pause, then with a snarl, the guy who threw it rushes me, and we tussle as the others dive into the fray. Fists, elbows, kicks. Kelly grabs her purse and takes cover behind the jukebox. I spot the tall guy grab a chair, and raise it over an unsuspecting Jack’s head.

I dive forward, knocking it out of his hands. Jack spins, confused, “What the–“ as I push him out of the way. I land a quick punch right across tall guy’s jaw that sends him to the floor, then grab Jack by the shoulders.

“Get. Home”, I say firmly.

He pushes me off and scatters to the exit.

Suddenly, I’m spun sideways by the bear-like grip of a bouncer who tosses me to the floor. I scramble to my feet, furious, intent on barrelling towards the smug son of a bitch and knocking his lights out, when someone catches my arm.

It’s Brandon.

“Cops”, he yells. It’s only then I hear the sound of sirens over the melee. Brandon hauls me to the exit, where we run-stumble through the double doors and land outside in a dusty heap, tangled together.

The sharp blast of wet night air brings me to my senses.

Before I can react, Brandon drags me to my feet and yanks me into an alleyway as police cars skid to a halt outside the bar. It’s only when he turns and slams me against the wall, snarling his face against mine, that I realise how mad he is.

“What”, he growls, “Theactual fuckis wrong with you?”

A shatter of lightning flashes overhead, perfectly illuminating the raindrops that cling dangerously to his jawline. I’m surprised it’s not steaming, given the fire in his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” I try to push him off but he’s holding me tight, his body pressed against mine. My head feels foggy, like I’m floating. Or more accurately, like I got smacked in the face after three beers.

“You! In there! Acting like a complete psycho!” Brandon yells back, slapping his hand in frustration against the wall. “You could have gotten yourself really fucking hurt. Or arrested”.

It’s only then I notice a cut above his right eye.

“Bran–”, I reach for him, but he knocks my hand away. We stand there, glaring at each other, rain pelting down around us. “Nobody asked you to save me”.

“You never ask. But it always seems to fucking happen, doesn’t it?”

The sirens continue to wail menacingly. For all I know, the cops are taking my description right now. Or deciding to look for me. Brandon seems to have the same idea because he pulls me vaguely in the direction of home, keeping us as hidden as possible from the open road.

We’re completely talking over each other as I try to defend myself whilst he’s in full self-superior rant mode.

“…Completely fucking outnumbered, no regard to your own safety…”

“…Only sticking up for myself, and innocent underage bystanders…”

“…Didn’t think twice about your job, or me, you’re welcome by the way…”

“…Just like everyone else, always assuming the worst…”

“That’s bullshit”, Brandon snaps. Summit’s in sight now. “And you know it”.

“I didn’t fucking start it!”

“But you sure as hell wereinvolvedin it”.

“I was breaking it up!” I snap, even though that’s not as strictly true as I’d like it to be, “Maybe if you’d have stuck around, you’d have seen for yourself”.

“Since when have you cared what I did?” he mutters. “You ditched me the second something better came along”.

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