The Demon's Virgin

Entry 2)What Goes Around Comes Around

"I didn't say I was finished, Blackwell!" Ms. Goode's voice followed me down the hall, but I paid it no heed.

"You can't give me more than two days detention, Goode," I responded over my shoulder. "We both know you don't possess the power to do that...Read the school handbook!" I jeered, causing Jake to breakout in harder laughter as we headed to lunch.

"You mark my words, I'll have that attitude of yours plucked before graduation!" Ms. Goode's angry declaration echoed down the hallway, drawing my attention backward just in time to miss what was right in front of me. I collided with someone hard, sending his open sixteen-ounce Pepsi bottle tumbling out of his hands and onto the floor. A Walkman flew out of the person's grasp as well, crashing roughly against the ground. Adam Jones loomed over me, his expression twisted in disgust.

"Look what you made me do!" he sneered, his irritation evident as he surveyed the mess. Bubbly Pepsi had splattered across the legs of his khaki school uniform pants and coated his hands, forming a sticky puddle on the floor.

"Whoa, man, sorry about that, I wasn't looking," I defended sheepishly, realizing my mistake.

"No shit, Sherlock," Adam retorted, shoving me roughly. The sticky residue of Pepsi now clung to my shoulders. His cold smile sent a chill down my spine as he recognized me.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the wimp who couldn't play with the big dogs."
I nearly cringed at the smallness of our high school. Salem Prep, with only four hundred and fifty students, felt like a fishbowl where everyone knew everyone else's business. They all seemed to believe I gave up football sophomore year because I couldn't handle the stress of varsity. Little did they know, it was a painful reminder of the life and parents I no longer had. But explaining that to my peers was out of the question.

Ignoring Adam's jab, I attempted to walk away, only to have a long arm rudely intercept my path. Robbie McClay and Storm Matthews flanked Adam, making it clear that I needed to tread carefully to avoid trouble. With people streaming out of the halls for lunch, there were no witnesses. Even if Adam wasn't surrounded by his beefy friends, his athletic build from four years of football made him plenty capable of kicking my ass all on his own. Jake and I exchanged glances, silently hoping for Ms. Goode's intervention. The irony wasn't lost on me that I found myself wishing for the presence of the old bat.

As students disappeared into the cafeteria for lunch, leaving the five of us isolated, I realized Goode was nowhere in sight. The old hag probably saw Adam and his goons cornering us and made herself scarce.

"I said I was sorry, man," I stated evenly, avoiding direct eye contact with Adam. Jake and I had joked that Adam had the mentality of a T-Rex from Jurassic Park: if you stayed still and quiet, you might avoid his wrath. The guy was all brawn and no brain.
"I think the weak Olive needs a lesson to learn not to run into people," Adam sneered, his smirk mirrored by Storm's chuckle. Of course, he had to use that stupid nickname, just to escalate the situation further. It wasn't enough that he used to call me that back when I was still in football. Now, he was going to use it right before beating the crap out of me.

"I think he doesn't," Jake interjected nervously, scanning the hallway for any sign of an adult approaching. There was none. We were completely alone.

"I'll let ya decide, dick face," Adam taunted, slowly circling us like a predator closing in on its prey. I felt like a seal trapped on a rock surrounded by sharks, except there were no rocks to hide on. "Punch to the face or crotch shot, take your pick," he offered with a cruel smile.
"OR, you back off, or else something very bad is going to happen to you," a new, soft voice announced, sending a shiver down my spine as I recognized its owner. It was Evelyn, my little sister—the last person who should ever be near a brawl.