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Mike Jr. looked down so I was able to make a face at the guys.
Asking for their help.
Remi and Matias came over and both crouched down.
“You’ve got us all here,” I said to Mike Jr. as I smiled. “Now talk.”
“This kid in my class,” Mike Jr. said.
“Bully?” Remi asked.
Mike Jr. nodded.
“I’ll kill him,” Matias said. “Give me names and addresses.”
“What happened, kid?” I asked.
“He made fun of my mother,” Mike Jr. said.
“What?” Remi asked, curling his lip.
“He said my mother realized how ugly I was,” Mike Jr. said. “It shocked her so much, her hair fell out. Then he told some of the girls that cancer is contagious. That I have it and that they’ll get it.”
“Shit,” I said.
“Fuck this,” Matias said.
He stood up, shoulders and chest flexed, ready for a fight.
“Take it easy,” Remi said. “Let’s talk to him about it.”
“You know, kid,” I said, “I’m not sure what your father’s stance is on violence… but if you hauled off and gave that kid a well-deserved crack to the mouth, I’d stick up for you.”
“I think we all would,” Remi said.
“I’ll be okay,” Mike Jr. said. “I’m just hurting.”
“Now you’ve got it off your chest,” Remi said.
“At the very least, put that punk up against a locker,” I said. “Like you’re grabbing a jersey for a fight. Do you know how to do that?”
Mike Jr. shook his head.
“Well, damn, kid, stand up,” I said. “It’s lesson time.”
I helped Mike Jr. to his feet and gave him a proper tutorial on how to grab someone’s jersey. There was a good technique with a firm grip that allowed you to keep control. Plus, at the correct angle, you had your other fist ready to throw an easy punch if you wanted to take it.
“Of course we’re just messing around,” Remi said to Coach’s son. “Right guys?”
“Sure,” I said.
“I’m not,” Matias said.
“You should talk to your father, a teacher, or someone at school,” Remi said.
“Since when are you such a good guy?” Matias asked.
“He’s a kid,” Remi said.
