Chapter Thirty Two

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November 10th, 1983

George lay cowered on the floor

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George lay cowered on the floor. He'd wrapped his arms around his to try and protect himself, even just a little. He hunched his legs up to his chest and cowered like a baby. He flinched a d writhing and whimpered every time a lunch landed. Troy was merciless. James wasn't any better. They were monsters. They didn't feel anything. They were monsters.

George could vaguely hear Mike's voice over the thumping from the beatings.

"Do something!" Mike screamed, turning to El. He didn't even wait for an answer before he charged forward. 

George felt someone else's arms on him for a second. They weren't hitting or punching at him, they were sort of grabbing him, pulling him away from Troy and James and then they were gone. And then, much to George's surprise, so were the punches.

Had he died? Had he lost consciousness and this was all a dream? Had they damaged his nerves so badly he could no longer feel them punching him?

Slowly, George opened his eyes. It certainly didn't look like a dream. If it was a dream, why was he still in the gym, at school? Mike was there, sitting on the floor just behind where George was. He was sat haphazardly, like he'd just been pushed. His lip was bleeding. George looked over his shoulder. There were Lucas and Dustin too. They were looking at him and smiling. Why were they smiling? And laughing? George followed their gaze. No, they weren't looking at him, they were looking at Troy. 

George thought this part must be a dream. He looked over, back at his friends but they seemed to see the same thing he saw. And then he saw El. She wiped at her nose, there was blood on her hand. And suddenly everything made sense.

*

Nick shoved people aside. She practically grabbed them and threw them away so she could get through. It took her ages and her shoulders stung from the amount of times she'd had to barge past people who wouldn't just simply step aside. But she'd made it. And she was just about in one piece.

That was more than could be said of George. Nick's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't breath. The sight of him, all bloody and beaten and bruised had knocked the air out of her. She couldn't breath for pure rage had built up inside her and threatened to burst it's way out of her. 

Who had done this? She scanned the centre of the circle, hands clenched. She saw Lucas and Dustin, and Mike also on the floor. They were looking straight in front of them. And we're laughing. What? They were actually laughing.

Nick followed their gaze and had to suppress a laugh. She wanted to erupt into laughter. The situation was just...crazy. There lay George, bruises over both his eyes, cuts on his hands and face, quite literally sitting in his own blood, and he was laughing at his assaulter who was pissing down his leg and onto the floor.

She looked back to the other boys. Lucas and Dustin now rushed down to George and Mike and sat with them, all four of them laughing. Nick stopped as she spotted a blonde girl in a pink dress standing a little ways behind the boys. She walked over to her too. Had they always had a female friend? She wiped at her nose. Had Nick just always missed her when she picked up George after school. How had she been so blind?

 How had she been so blind?

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