Maxwell’s POV
I forced myself to stand, wiping blood and tears and dirt from my face. My whole body hurt, but I had to move. Had to get to the playground. Olivia would be waiting.
I ran, and stumbled through the alley, past the library, toward the playground. My vision was blurry with tears, my breath coming in painful gasps.
What am I going to do? What am I going to do?
When I finally reached the playground, I saw her imdiately. Olivia was on the swings, kicking her legs back and forth, her ponytail swinging behind her. She was wearing a yellow sundress today, bright and cheerful, like a little ray of sunshine.
The mont she saw , her face lit up with a huge smile. She jumped off the swing and ran toward , arms outstretched for a hug.
But her smile disappeared the instant she got close enough to see my face.
"Maxwell!" She stopped right in front of , her eyes going wide with horror. "What happened? You’re crying! Are you hurt?"
I couldn’t speak. The words were stuck in my throat, trapped behind the sobs I was trying to hold back.
"Maxwell, talk to !" Olivia grabbed my hands, her small fingers wrapping around mine. "Did soone hurt you? Was it those an boys again?"
I nodded, and the tears started flowing faster.
"What did they do?" She waa angry now. "Tell what they did!"
So I told her. All of it. About the ambush in the hallway, the beating in the alley, and worst of all, their demand.
"They want to bring you to them," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Tomorrow. They said if I don’t, they’ll keep hurting and then they’ll co get you themselves. And they said... they said they’d do things to you. Bad things. Because you’re a girl."
I expected her to be scared. Expected her to run away, to tell we couldn’t be friends anymore, that I was too dangerous to be around.
Instead, Olivia’s expression turned determined.
"Don’t worry," she said firmly, squeezing my hands. "My big brother will beat them all up. He’s super strong and he knows how to fight really good!"
"Your brother?" I blinked through my tears.
"Yeah! Kennedy! He’s the best big brother ever! He taught how to use the pepper spray, and he knows karate and everything!" She was pulling on my hands now, tugging toward the edge of the playground. "Co on! Co et him! He’ll teach you how to fight too! Then you won’t have to be scared anymore!"
"But..."
"Co on!" Olivia was practically dragging now, and despite the pain and fear and hopelessness, I found myself following her.
Because maybe there was a way out of this nightmare.
Maybe Olivia’s brother really could help.
Maybe I didn’t have to be the weak, pathetic victim anymore.
Maybe I can beco soone worthy of Olivia’s friendship.
As she led away from the playground, chatting about her brother and martial arts and how bullies were just scared people who needed to be taught a lesson, I made another silent promise.
I’ll get stronger. I’ll learn to fight. I’ll beco soone who can protect you instead of always needing to be protected.
I’ll beco worthy of you, Olivia. I swear it.
No matter how long it takes.
She led through the neighborhood, still holding my hand tightly like she was afraid I might disappear if she let go. We walked for about ten minutes, turning down streets I’d never been on before, past different houses.
Finally, we stopped in front of a two-story house with a small front yard. It wasn’t as big as my family’s mansion - not even close - but there was sothing warm and inviting about it that my cold, empty house had never possessed. Flower boxes hung from the windows, full of colorful blooms. A bicycle was leaned against the garage. There was a welco mat at the front door that actually looked like people used it.
It looked like a ho. A real ho where people actually lived and laughed and cared about each other. Not mine were my parents were never around and my brother was away in boarding school.
"Wait here," Olivia commanded, dropping my hand and running toward the front door. "I’ll get Kennedy!"
She ran inside, leaving standing on the sidewalk, suddenly very aware of how I must look. My face was probably swollen and red from crying. My shirt had dirt stains from being thrown to the ground. My hair was a ss. I probably looked exactly like what I was - a pathetic, beaten-down kid who couldn’t defend himself.
Kennedy’s going to take one look at and laugh. He’s going to tell Olivia she picked the wrong friend. He’s going to...
The front door opened.
Olivia ca running out, dragging soone behind her by the hand. "Co on, Kennedy! Hurry!"
The boy let himself be pulled forward. When he ca close enough for to see him properly, sothing twisted in my chest.
Kennedy looked to be about my age - maybe twelve, possibly thirteen. But that’s where any similarity between us ended.
He was tall and lean, with an athletic build probably from sports and exercise, not from sitting around reading books all day. His dark hair looked effortlessly cool. He was wearing a soccer jersey and jeans, and even his casual clothes looked better on him than my expensive designer outfits ever looked on .
But it wasn’t his appearance that made wish I could be him.
It was his presence.
Kennedy stood there with a confidence I’d never possessed in my entire life. His shoulders were firm, his posture straight, his expression calm and assessing. He looked like soone who knew exactly who he was and didn’t apologize for it.
He looked like soone who could handle anything.
I wish I was him. I wish I looked like that, moved like that, existed like that.
"Kennedy, this is Maxwell!" Olivia announced, still holding her brother’s hand. "He’s my new friend! I told you about him, rember? The one I saved from the bullies?"
Kennedy’s eyes moved over , taking in my appearance, the traces of tears on my face, the way I was hunched in on myself like I was trying to make myself even smaller.
I waited for the judgnt. The mockery. The dismissal.
Instead, Kennedy nodded and said, "Yeah, I’ve seen you at the state library a few tis. You’re part of the book club
there, right?"
I blinked in surprise. "You... you’ve seen ?"
"Hard not to notice soone reading in the corner every week." Kennedy’s voice was matter-of-fact, not mocking. "You’re usually reading stuff way above grade level. Last ti I saw you, you had a college-level textbook."
"You noticed what I was reading?" I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice.
"I notice things." Kennedy shrugged. Then his expression turned more serious. "Olivia said so kids have been bothering you. Tell about them."
So I told him. Everything. About Peter and his gang, about the months of bullying, about today’s ambush and beating. And finally, about their demand that I bring Olivia to them tomorrow.
Kennedy’s jaw tightened when I got to that part. "They specifically said they’d harm my sister?"
"Yes," I whispered, sha flooding through . "They said... they said if I didn’t bring her, they’d co get her themselves. And they said they’d do things to her. Bad things. Because she’s a girl."
For the first ti since I’d started talking, Kennedy’s calm composure cracked. His eyes went hard, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
"Those bastards," he muttered, then seed to rember Olivia was standing right there. "Sorry, Liv. Bad word."
"It’s okay," Olivia said seriously. "They are bastards. That’s what bad people are called."
Kennedy looked at again, his expression determined. "Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, all three of us are going to et those boys."
My eyes widened. "All three of us? But..."
"They want you to bring Olivia? Fine. Bring her. But I’ll be there too." Kennedy’s voice was confident, like he was stating an obvious fact. "And when they try anything, I’ll handle it."
"But there are four of them," I protested weakly. "And they’re bigger than us. Older. They’re..."
"Bullies," Kennedy interrupted. "They’re bullies. And bullies are cowards. They only pick on people who won’t fight back. The mont soone stands up to them, they fold."
"How do you know?" I asked, desperately wanting to believe him.
"Because I used to be bullied too." Kennedy said it simply, like it was no big deal. "Before I learned how to fight. Before I got taller and stronger. I know how these guys work. They’re predictable."
"You were bullied?" I couldn’t imagine it. Kennedy seed so strong, so confident, so... together.
"Everyone gets bullied at so point," he replied with a shrug. "The difference is what you do about it. You can keep being a victim, or you can learn to fight back."
"I don’t know how to fight," I admitted in a small voice.
"Then I’ll teach you." Kennedy said it like it was simple. "Starting now."
"Now?"
"Yeah. We’ve got..." Kennedy checked his watch, "...about twenty minutes before you go ho, right? Let’s use it."
Reviews
All reviews (0)