A Proscriptive Relationship

:A Proscriptive Relationship: 57-2

"Holly, are you okay?" Mr. Heywood shouted at me.

I turned to him, struggling to push myself off the ground. "I'm fine."

Mr. Heywood turned his attention back to Shawn. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"Let's see how quick of a learner you are. You should catch on quickly- you are a teacher after all," Shawn commented, finally letting go of Mr. Heywood's legs. "What will you do?"

Mr. Heywood once again punched Shawn face. "Shut up!"

This time I felt Mikey coming at me. I dodged his fist, making sure to keep an eye on his other hand so he couldn't use a cheap shot like last time. Mikey swung his fist at me again and I barely managed to stop him from hitting my face by blocking with my arm. Pain spread through my forearm at the contact of his strike. I took his moment of surprise from my block to return one of his punches. A look of surprise crossed his face as I managed to nick him pretty good on the jaw. However, in my elation of hitting him, he ended up striking me back in the nose.

I cried out in pain, my hands automatically shooting up to my nose. When I pulled one away, I could see blood covering it. Panicking slightly, I leaned forward to let it drip out.

Mr. Heywood started towards me again, but Shawn quickly grabbed him. "Four," he said in singsong voice.

"What are you counting?" Mr. Heywood demanded, trying to kick his leg free. "Let go, damn it!"

"You can't figure it out?" Shawn asked in a mockingly disappointed voice. "Wow. Holly might end up dead before you do."

I stared at Shawn in surprise. What was he talking about? And whatever happened to the not hurting me part? Mr. Heywood looked at, his expression probably mimicking mine.

"What shit are you spouting out now?" Mr. Heywood demanded, glaring down at Shawn. "What do you mean by that?"

Shawn shrugged. "You figure it out."

Mr. Heywood stayed quiet for a moment, staring down at Shawn with a hard expression. Shawn stayed on the ground, not even attempting to stand up. There was blood trickling down the edge of his lip, much like the blood that was still coming out of my nose, staining the ground below me.

"You're a bastard, you know that Shawn?" Mr. Heywood suddenly growled, bending down to grab the front of Shawn's shirt. In one swift movement, Mr. Heywood had him on his feet.

"Have you figured it out?"

"What do you want?" Mr. Heywood demanded, ignoring Shawn's question. "Tell me, Shawn. Before I kill you."

Shawn laughed loudly. "If you kill me, Holly dies."

Mr. Heywood scowled. "What do you want?" he repeated.

"To see you get the shit beat out of you," Shawn responded simply, losing all signs of humor. "To see you get what you deserve."

"So you're going to use dirty tricks so I won't attack you?"

Shawn cocked his head to the side. "Pretty much."

"I thought you said you were going to fight fair!" I shouted at Shawn, feeling the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

"I lied, Holly. You think you'd be used to lying, wouldn't you?"

Mr. Heywood yanked on Shawn's shirt, bringing him closer. "If I let you have me, are you going to let Holly go?"

Shawn glanced at me, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You want to bargain with me?" He made an tsking noise, looking back to Mr. Heywood. "I don't think you have the power to do that, Chris. I have the upper hand."