Page 32 of Xavier

"Get your slut girlfriend out of my face. Before I make her,” he spits and I wonder how he’s still alive to take another breath.

I grit my teeth and pull on her arm, calling her name. "Malynda, come on... it's not worth it. He's just a dickhead."

"I'd rather be a dickhead than a fucking peasant who has to live off the scraps his mom brings home from the diner. Come to think of it, maybe next time, I’ll leave her a little something extra." He barely has a chance to finish his crude gesture before my arm finishes its upper swing into his solar plexus.

"Xavier! No!" someone yells, as I barrel against him, this time digging my shoulder into his stomach. I feel rather than hear him heave before his arm comes to hook around my neck and he drags me to the ground. Somehow, I end up on top of our pile of swinging arms and kicking legs, straddling him. My fist bears down on his face as I punch him, over and over.

It's all just a blur, my arms swinging down connecting with his face before pulling back to gather momentum again. Die. I just want him to die.

I'm not sure how many times I hit him. The movement is a constant loop, even as I feel myself dragged to my feet and someone, or someones, are holding me back, locking my arms behind me. Someone pulls him up as well, his face torn and bloody, scarlet red dripping from his nose and bottom lip.

"You fuckhead," he hisses and spits, splattering the ground with bloody droplets.

"Don't you ever talk about my mom or Malynda again or I will fucking kill you," I yell back, trying to lunge forward.

"OY!" An older voice breaks in between us. It's Mr. Horsham, the owner. "Get out of here, you bloody kids! And don't come back again!"

My arms are suddenly free and my fists starting to feel the effects of the fight.

Mr. Horsham stands only up to their shoulders, but his gaze is fiery and it doesn't take them long to break formation and walk away. Jack gives me one last threatening glare before wiping his mouth on his sleeve and leaves.

"And you, that's it for you.” Mr. Horsham says, pointing his finger at me. “I can't have them coming back here and causing trouble. If you're here, they will. I'm sorry, boy."

I can't believe it. I need this job.

"Mr. Horsham!" I call after him. "Please, no. I need this job! I'll clean this all up right now!" I bend over, grabbing the cup from Mikey's sundae, trying to scoop up the spilled dessert back into it, desperate.

"I'm really sorry, kid. This is my business." He pulls his wallet out from his back pocket and peels off a thick stack of notes. "Here, this is what I owe you and, um, an extra week’s pay. You were a good worker. I'll give you a reference." He gives me a regretful smile and steps back inside.

"Shit!" I curse under my breath. What am I going to do now?

Mikey runs up to me, throwing his arms around my waist, his face wet as he sobs over his spilled sundae. My heart breaks for him, but I know I can’t afford to get him another ice cream, especially now.

"I'll clean this up. You get them home, they must be exhausted,” a soft voice says.

For a moment, I forgot that Malynda had witnessed the whole thing, but now that it's over, I replay it back in my head, seeing what she must have seen, hearing what she must've heard, and utter humiliation is spreading through my body.

"Er, no. It's okay, I can do it," I say, not meeting her eyes. I don't know if she hears me over Michaels wails.

She squats, gathering the scattered remnants of the ice cream into a pile.

"I want to go hooooome," Hamish whines, tugging on my arm.

"Go," she says, looking up at me and giving me a small smile. I see pity in her eyes. "It's okay, I've got it."

I open my mouth and no words come out.

So, I say nothing as she returns to her task.

I just walk away and wish her a goodbye, and a good life, in my head.