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a girl. You should pick on someone your own gender.” It was Goth Guy. He stood a few feet behind us in the middle of the aisle. I would have delighted in the chance to finally listen to him speak, but unfortunately the words caught up to me. Great, another guy who thought girls were useless. And I used to think he was so hot.
“I don’t need your help Mr. Medieval. I can handle this.”
“No. You’re a lady. Ladies don’t fight, especially not with absolute dickheads like these.” He actually grabbed onto my wrist and tried to pull me back. What was he, a knight?
Curly on the other hand looked pissed at being called a dickhead. “You’re going to pay for what your boyfriend said, you bitch.”
Great, now I had a bull to deal with that was not above fighting girls. And I was so not 2nd dickhead’s girlfriend. Before I could announce this, Curly latched his fingers onto my shoulder, getting ready to throw a punch.
I pulled my wrist free from Goth Guy and dodged Curly’s hit before it could make contact. My fingers curled into a fist, and, putting all the strength I could into it, punched his gut. His breath came out in a whooshing sound. Before he could react, I kneed him in his balls where he fell in to a crumpling heap, gasping for the breath. Satisfied, I turned around to walk back to my seat. I heard a couple cheers go out around me, when Goth Guy stepped in front of me.
“Yes Mr. Medieval?” I still hadn’t forgotten the whole girls-don’t-fight bit from him. His face reddened a little when he remembered that too.
“My name is Adrian. And I’m sorry about the ‘lady’ comment. You are more than capable of protecting yourself. My mother taught me differently though.” He looked directly at me when he said that and I didn’t doubt him.
“Well thank you for-” A blaze of pain shot through me from my back, and I fell forward. Adrian caught me in his arms and tried to help me up, but when he touched my back, his hand was spotted in blood. He dropped me, scared, and I landed on my back. Even more pain shot through my spine. I got up on my elbows, in time to see Curly looming over me, pulling his leg back.
Adrian was still behind me, but now he was trying to help me up. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to move with his arms around me. All I could do was turn away, when I felt the blow. Searing pain shot through me like a lance from my ribs and I could have sworn I heard something crack.
That was it. This motherfucker crossed the wrong line. “You son of a bitch! You’ll pay for that.” I stood up quickly, ignoring the pain in my back and ribs. He threw a punch, aiming for my head. I sidestepped , but then he tried again, going for my stomach. I caught it in one of my hands, pulling forward so I could punch him hard in his chest. He staggered back and I punched him brutally in the face. His head snapped back, blood spurting out of his nose.
I’ll give him credit, he didn’t cry out or anything like that. He just wiped the blood off, holding his fighting stance. We started the danse macabre again, his fighting vigor renewed. His punches were rough, going for force, but they weren’t balanced. He got in a few on my side , before I elbowed him in the face. More blood came from his nose, just when I thought I had bled him dry. I drove the heel of my boot onto his instep; when he bent down in a reflex reaction, I shoved my forearm into his throat, hard enough to pin him down to the floor. I kept my arm there until I felt his struggles cease and saw his eyes close. He was unconscious, but not dead; I checked his pulse.
Satisfied the fight was over, I slowly got to my feet assessing the damage done while I stretched up. I probably had a few broken ribs and lots of cuts, but nothing that wouldn’t heal soon enough. At least that’s what I told myself while I hobbled back to my desk, trying not to widen the cuts. Adrian came up in front of me, the look on his face one of deep regret. Before he could voice those regrets, and most likely apologize, I let him have it.
“You asshole couldn’t have told me he was right there? You could have seen him, but you didn’t say a word. Are you trying to hurt me or something? You were probably working with him to get me punched” It seemed irrational, but I was so furious, I didn’t care what I said.
“I swear I didn’t see him. I wouldn’t-”
“No I don’t want to hear it from you asshole. Stay away from me.” I shuffled back in the direction of my desk, but instead headed to the window. Unlatching it, I jumped the wall and pulled myself up. I ran out into the grass, going nowhere in particular. the pain was excruciating, but I didn’t care right then. I just wanted to get away. Finally I ended up in my dorm room. Persephone was there, doing homework. She gasped when I walked in, which meant I was hurt as bad as I felt; usually she didn’t get worried much if it was a few scrapes and bruises. She helped me to my bed, then flitted around my desk looking for the first aid kit and my supply of medications. It hurt too much to lie on my back, so I turned on my side, facing the wall.
Persephone came back with the peroxide and cotton balls. The second she tried to take off my bloodied shirt, I hissed in pain, my back arching. She couldn’t do it without hurting me, so instead she cut it off. I heard her gasp of surprise and wondered how bad it really was.
“How does it look?”
“I think you better look at it yourself. Here.” She handed me a mirror, angling the one she held in her own hands so I could see. My mouth fell open when I could finally see clearly. There were jagged cuts across the small of my back, some shallow, and others still oozing blood. There were also some bits of glass in the deep cuts. “How did you get glass in there?” She started to take out the glass with a pair of tweezers. It hurt like a motherfucker.
“I honestly don’t know” I answered with a bitter laugh. “I think it was when the guy kicked me in my back. How the hell he got glass on his shoe, I don’t know. I should ask him when I see him next.” And there would be a next time. I would make sure of it.
“What? You can’t go after him. Not after this. Shouldn’t you stay away?” She was done getting out the glass, and was now swabbing down my back.
“Seph, I knocked him unconscious. I think I can take him again.”
“Why do you want to go after him then if you already got him?” She sounded exasperated.
“Because of what he did. A bloody nose is hardly anything.” She was still an innocent on the revenge concept.
“Please, Ravyn. Please will you leave him alone?” Her tone changed to pleading, and I hated it. It always set my ire off when someone begged.
“Fine, but only for you. I still want to kill that son of a -”
“Language.” Persephone was always trying to cure me of my bad language, though whenever she was out of earshot, I let it go. I only barely controlled myself around her. “There, now sit up for a second.”
I sat up, causing the cuts to reopen, and me to hiss again. Seph wrapped the gauze around my lower back and stomach. “There you’re all done. Now what?”
“Good question. Maybe-” The rest was cut off when two security guards entered the room. “What the fuck! I’m changing here!” I quickly pulled on a shirt lying on my bed, grateful that at least my back was to them.
Unperturbed, all they said was,” Ravyn, principal wants to see you.”
“Great, just make my fucking day why don’t you?” Getting up, I walked over to Seph. “Looks like I’ll talk to you later. See ya at night. And don’t touch my e-mails.”
I walked out of the room, security stalking my every step, but I wasn’t worried about the message. Seph knows I don’t e-mail anyone seeing as how I don’t have any friends. Whenever I tell her not to check my e-mail, it’s because I typed something there, a message for her on where to meet me. The one I wrote was from today, before I went for the cemetery. I didn’t know I would be stuck in detention at the time, but Seph knows I would be there anyway. Sneaking out was not something new to me.
When I walked in the principal’s office, Curly was there, along with Mr. Bolan.
“Sit down Ravyn.” He sounded nothing like the last time I talked to him, when I was getting detention for hitting Bethany. I sat in the chair farthest from Curly, cause if he was the one that sold me out, I was guaranteed to punch him in the nose again.
“What happened?” I made my voice sound innocent, like Persephone’s did sometimes.
“Mr. Bolan, perhaps you would like to explain.” He was really mad then if he wouldn’t even talk to me yet.
“Yes of course. I walked in my classroom, and everything was in total chaos. There were children sitting on the desks, talking to each other. Then there were a few standing in a circle. After chastising them and telling them to go sit down, I saw that it was this young man, on the floor, unconscious and bloody. I cleaned most of the blood off, but his nose is still broken, When I asked him who did it, he said he couldn’t remember. That’s everything.” Great, at least Curly hadn’t sold me out. That got him some points on not being a whiny little girl who told on everyone.
“Well there it is. Now, until we find who did it, Mr. Bolan will you please take Devin to the infirmary. I want to talk to Ravyn alone.” He didn’t even look at me when he said it. Not until Curly and Bolan left did I finally receive his attention. How are we today Miss Knight?” He smiled pleasantly, like e wasn’t waiting to drop a bombshell on me.
“Bored. Pissed. Shitty. And a bunch of other crap I don’t want to get into.” He lifted an eyebrow at my language. That really pissed me off. “Okay , you can cut the good cop attitude. I already know I’m in trouble. What’s my detention?” I was very tired of having to play a good girl around adults, but then if I didn’t, I always paid hell for it later.
“All right Ravyn, I’ll get to the point. I know you weren’t in detention today. Mr. Bolan didn’t see you, and neither did any body else. In fact this was the only thing the other students agreed on. Everyone was pointing fingers at everyone else so I can’t tell who did it. But you have to go to detention if you want to even think about passing your junior year. Your classes are barely kept at C level when you attend. If you continue to skip out, I’ll have to fail you for the year. That’s
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