Must Be Nice

Chapter 1

A swift blow to the back of the head by the taller Soc sent me to my knees. I was surrounded. I wanted to badly to just give up and let them kick me until they eventually get bored and leave, but I can't disappoint by dad like that, that's just disrespectful. To counter the hit, I threw my elbow hard into the man with a S sawn into his blue jacket. He stumbled back, leaning down to hold his knee, and I used that moment of shock to ram my fist into the tall ginger soc's groin. He fell to the side, his knees up to his chest, and I was pulled up by a soc who was wearing a sweatervest instead of a Letterman's jacket. He knocked me upside the head and pushed me into the arms of two almost identical men, and furiously began to punch me in the chest and the stomach.
This didn't stop until he was pulled back my a shorter girl. This girl had been yelling profanities accompanied by "Wyatt, WYATT!" I assume this was the vesting soc's name. The twins threw me onto my hands and knees infront of the girl and she gasped before the one I hit below the belt earlier stepped on my back, pushing me down onto my chest. By reflex, I grabbed onto the female soc's leg, and that resulted in Wyatt kicking my wrist. "Get off of him! Leave him be," the girl yelled, before pulling me up by my hands and hugging me, using herself as a human shield to keep the boys from attacking me further. "He didn't do anything to you guys, so get the hell out of here," she yelled again, causing the soc group to grumble and scatter. She looked up to me, eyes filled with fear and sorrow. In a soft voice, she asked, "Are you okay? You're bleeding." In response, I laughed, "Yeah I'm okay. I just got jumped by like... 5 brutes, no biggy."
"7," she replied. "Huh? 7 guys? Wow. That's a new record," I stated, almost as if I was proud of myself. I hated lying, but this was an exception. The look in her face became more concerned as she asked, "So you mean 5 wasn't?" I saw this as a rhetorical question, and chose not to answer providing only a shrug.
I felt light headed, dissy, and cold. I could feel a cold sweat dripping down my back along with the room-temperature of the blood pouring from my wounds and drying to my tight white t-shirt and my black leather jacket. That's when I tumbled over the social female, and blacked out.