Ratbags and Scallywags [bxb]

Chapter 8

The guys started cracking up and smacking each other's backs. They knew without a shadow of a doubt that I'd be that horse's fodder after this. Donovan, who was considerably taller than me, stepped closer to me. He kept closing the distance while I took deliberate steps back to avoid it. Our stalemate took us in careful circles, while I remained cautious not to get pinned back again.

"You think acting like a preachy faggot's funny, huh, clown?" he asked, cocking his head. We might as well be going around a merry-go-round with the rate we were going.

"Daddy, chill," I said, sticking my hand out between us to maintain some distance. "No one's acting anything. I'm just making very clear that I'll be upholding an absolute zero-tolerance policy on any kind of threatening behavior towards Ikeisha, or anything that drags Aubrey through the mud."

Everyone was quiet now, eyes focused on me. Maybe testing how far I'd go. Donovan's lips curled into a snarl.

"Playing the hero all of a sudden, are we?" he asked. "I didn't know it was that easy after ruining someone's life like that."

I gritted my teeth. As if I needed that reminder.

"I'll never be able to take that back," I said, choosing my words carefully. "But what I can do is make sure nothing bad comes out of it. And if it means sorting a bunch of high school thugs like you out, then that's something I've come to terms with."

That was a lie; I hadn't come to terms with it. Not one bit. Rather, I wanted to shit my pants and run. But Ikeisha was still standing close to me, watching, listening, and gaging every exchange between us. If there was anything positive to come out of this, then it'd be her seeing me as some kind of hero. In an ideal world, this would bring us a foot closer to sorting her out with Ben, too.

Two birds, one stone.

But I wasn't that lucky. My ability to fulfill any challenge or bet was a mixture of perseverance and audacity. None of it ever came down to luck. And if suddenly did now, then it wouldn't likely be on my side.

"You're not a hero, Rascal," he said, sticking his finger out and prodding it into my chest. Being a little on the skinny side, I felt the stinging pressure linger even after he moved it away. "You're a nuisance. And if you think I got any sort of sympathy for a disabled kid then you're dead wrong."

My careless reply was about to stem from the truth. His background wasn't exactly a mystery here at school. He lives with his single Dad who owned and ran a lower-class whorehouse. Most of the women were illegal immigrants or runaway victims trying to make a living. At some point, the police built a high enough case against him to shut it down and give the women refuge.

The club was bought out and renovated while his Dad was incarcerated, establishing itself into a classy Gentleman's Club. Some of the previous workers were even reemployed under professional, protected contracts to earn above minimum wage. It was a big scandal just a few years ago, and we all knew about it. Donavan lived with his extended family for two years until his Dad was released from prison, resuming a bit of normalcy in their lives. Rumors already had it that his Dad's just about burned through the money, leaving nothing else for them to survive off.

You'd think Donavan would try to keep it on the DL, but his actions made it seem like he desperately wanted everybody to remember. So, I just let him know that I did.

"Doesn't really speak volumes coming from the kid of a squandering hillbilly redneck," I said, ducking the moment his fist came for me. Donovan was wide-eyed, rampant, roaring as he gave chase. Ikeisha's eyes widened as I sidestepped her, giving her a salute as I bolted towards the classroom. "See you in class!"