Snake Eyes {25}

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                “Hey! Let him go!” I said angrily, clenching my small fists.

                The two boys turned to look at me. The bigger one, Will, glanced at me. “Go away,” he whined, holding the smaller one’s shirt. I didn’t know the smaller boy’s name.

                “Let him go,” I repeated, glaring. “You’re being mean. I’ll tell the teacher on you and she’ll call your mommy and daddy!”

                Will hesitated before releasing the smaller boy. Will shoved him roughly and he stumbled and fell down. Will kicked him in the face before hurrying away.

                I rushed over to the small boy and knelt next to him as he clutched at his eye. I slowly helped him up and he winced and shrank away from me, terror in his exposed eye as he searched my face.

                “Just hit me and get it over with,” he whimpered.

                “I’m not going to hit you,” I promised, helping him to his feet.

                He slowly pulled his hands away from his eye. It was turning nasty colors and I looked at it in disgust. How could Will just hurt him like that? It was so mean!

                “Why was he hitting you?” I asked curiously.

                The small boy awkwardly dug the toe of his sneakers into the ground and shrugged. “Because he’s bigger. That’s why they all do it,” he said quietly.

                “I won’t do it. I pinky promise,” I said with a small smile. “Wanna be friends?”

                The small boy looked startled. He searched my eyes carefully for any sign of a lie. He hesitated before holding his hand out to me.

                I clasped it in my own. “I’m Maxx Falcone. What’s your name?” I asked, releasing his hand after I shook it.

                The small boy looked at me with admiration in his eyes. I realized I was probably the first person who hadn’t come up to him to hurt him. I saw him get bullied a lot. They would make him cry and sometimes even make him bleed. They did real awful things to him.

                “I’m Chandler Martin.”

                I glanced over at Chandler, 13 years later. Back then, he had always followed me no matter what I did. Now it seemed that the roles were reversed.

                Here I sat at our lunch table, terrified to tell Mark I loved him because I was afraid of Chandler and my dad’s reactions. Damn. Growing up sucked.

                “Got a staring problem?” Chandler asked, raising an eyebrow at me as he opened his drink and took a swing of it. I shrugged.

                “Nope,” I said calmly.

                Chandler shrugged and went back to eating. I searched the lunch room and caught the back of Mark’s head as he went into the lunch line with Shaw. Shaw was scanning the cafeteria, probably for any sign of me. I ducked my head slightly.

                Getting Mark alone to talk to him wouldn’t be easy with Shaw. He was far too protective of Mark for me to get close to him.

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