Page 9 of Puck You Very Much
“I’m saying no because this is ridiculous.”
“It didn’t seem ridiculous last Friday night when you threw that sucker punch at me.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. You look like you’re healing up nicely.”
I touched my hand to my face, still feeling self-conscious about the damage he’d caused, sucker punch or not.
“You looked like total ass on the day of the game,” he said. “Holy crap, I’m pretty sure Rocky Balboa looked better after his first bout with Apollo Creed.”
“Alright, wise guy, enough with the smart mouth already. Now, step outside, would you?”
“Jakob, who is this guy?” a smaller bespectacled kid with Jakob asked.
“He’s an asshole.”
Jakob said it so sharply—and matter-of-factly—that the other guy probably could help but take it seriously. His friends stood behind him like they could really save his sorry ass. Didn’t matter. I would take all three of them on if necessary. Jakob’s only hope would be for the entire Larkin Lions hockey team to appear en masse. Without that, his goose would be cooked.
This guy was being an unbelievable pain in the ass. Maybe I should’ve expected that from a cheap shot artist like Jakob Martin. I wouldn’t let him weasel out of this, though, and not just because he needed to be taught a lesson. I wouldn’t have another golden opportunity to get even so I wouldn’t waste this.
“Step. Out. Side.” My teeth clenched, and I squeezed my balled-up hands into fists. For all I knew, my eyes had bulged out of the sockets, too.
“No way, brother,” he said.
“Don’t call me brother, you little asshole.”
“It’s a free country, bub. If I want to call you the Queen of Sheba, you should get ready to be crowned Your Majesty.”
“You’re the one that’s gonna get crowned, you fucking piece of shit.”
Now I really worried I would lose it. Like, did this guy enjoy pushing my buttons or something?
I slowed down, and drew a deep breath, so he wouldn’t known he’d gotten under my skin. If he ever found out, I could kiss my chance at revenge goodbye.
“Anyway,” he said, “I can’t get into something stupid like that. Our coach told us we can’t have any more trouble with the Riptides.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Yeah, that’s a fact.”
Our coach had given us a similar spiel about fighting with Larkin, and the distractions it would cause, but I didn’t give a shit. Jakob Martin was in front of me right now, and I couldn’t pass up receiving my pound of flesh.
“Let me make this real plain for you,” I said. “You step outside with me right now or I’m going to drag you there.”
A blonde cashier hurried out from behind the counter, and said, “I think it’s time for you to leave, sir.”
“But I don’t think it is. I’m just taking care of a personal matter between myself and this little asshole right here.”
“Then you’ll have to take care of it as far from my store as possible.”
I turned back to Jakob and said, “It’s gonna be you and me out there, pal.”
“I’m not your pal.”
“I don’t give a shit what you are. You’re gonna step outside with me.”
“Um, do I have to call the police?” the cashier asked.
“Do whatever you’ve got to do. Now, Jakob, are you going to get out there like a man, or aren’t you?”
