Throughout the room all that could be heard were faint murmurs of curiosity, the low hum of music and Britta's river of swears.
Britta had collapsed onto the floor, staring up at me with watery eyes and a string of curses shooting from her lips. She was nursing her hurt nose with both hands, and her eyes were glaring daggers. One punch had done little to satisfy the rage burning inside of me though, and so I lunged at her again, fueled only by impulsivity and unadultered fury.
Just as I was about to make fist-to-face contact, I felt a pair of arms intercept as they circled around my waist, pulling me up off the ground and receiving a disgruntled cry in response. My legs kicked as all they were met with was air.
"I think this is our cue to leave," a voice murmured in my ear, laced with an inexplicable amusement.
I easily recognized the voice as Reese's, but hardly paid it any mind as I struggled tirelessly to break free from his grip. Reese held on though, and took a few steps in the opposite direction, exactly where I did not want to be.
"Let me the fuck go, Powers, I swear to fucking- ugh!" I growled, but his grip only seemed to tighten as I glared at the blonde girl with homicidal eyes.
A couple of her concerned friends were now crowded around her, making sure she was all right, but the girl hardly paid them any mind. When she brought her fingers to touch her upper lip, wide eyes registered the trickle of blood that had dipped into her cupid's bow, and I saw her flinch at my words.
Just as we were about to break through the door way, a boy I faintly recognized from school grabbed Reese's arm to stop him. "Dude, let her go, let Britta finish this."
I could feel Reese freeze around me, grip still irritatingly tight. "Hey, Warren, just let this one go."
Despite myself, I couldn't help but note that Reese's voice was uncharacteristically strained.
More importantly, it appeared erratic struggling was not going to get me anywhere, and so I'd opted for trying to pry his fingers off of me instead. While I tried to grab at his hands, I faintly processed the boy standing next to us, all tall, tan, and quintessential football player with his meaty arms and broad chest. He dwarfed even Reese as he stared down at us with thick, knitted brows.
"Reese, dude, what are you doing? Just let her go," Warren insisted, his voice low and dangerously steady.
Against my back I felt Reese inhale and a murmur of a curse in my ear, involuntarily causing me to pause. "Fuck off, Warren," he snapped, and then he was charging out the door.
As we broke through the foyer and into the nightly air, I continued to try and wiggle my way out his grasp, which was infuriatingly solid. I was beginning to feel sore with how tightly his arms were digging into me. "Powers!" I threatened, but unconsciously it came out with a much whinier edge than intended. "Let me go!"
His pace barely slowed as we continued down the long road, not another breath of human presence in sight. I could tell he was beginning to feel my weight as his breathing grew a little more ragged, and he tried to hoist me up for a better grip. It didn't matter, I was still very much ready to slip through and race back to Britta and, as Warren had so eloquently put it, finish what I'd started. I was fully accepting any and all retaliations from her part- that was half the fun.
"Just- ugh, Reese, seriously!"
"I'm not letting you go until I know that you won't go running back there," he told me, a warning edge to his voice.
YOU ARE READING
Fraternizing with the EnemyChickLit
(alternatively called: slow burn, second-hand embarrassment, and shenanigans) A girl made up of short fuses, clumsy feet and copious amounts of sarcasm has to team up with her irritatingly obnoxious neighbour in the name of love (also known as ragin...