Loser II || WlW

Five

     "Stop squirming!" It's Clementine's boyfriend, the one who tried to fight me a couple of days ago, but this time he brought friends.

Two boys are holding my arms behind my back as they lift me to my feet. Clementine's boyfriend, I don't remember his name, strolls toward me, pushes his tongue in his cheek as he smiles.

"Well, well." He grabs my chin affectionately. "How the tables have turned."

I rip my face from his grasp, attempt to pull my arm free.

I smile. "How many jocks does it take to fight a lesbian? You sure you don't want to bring one more?"

He pulls a knife from his pocket, flips it open, and holds it to my neck. The blade digs into my skin.

"You fucked my girl," he snarls.

My mind races back to high school. Trevor's lips inches from my face as he'd scream that I killed his girl. I was weak then, defenseless.

"I didn't know you guys are dating." I try to pull my neck away from the blade. "For fuck's sake, shouldn't you be mad at her? She's the one who cheated on you."

He's rambling about something, but I'm not paying attention, as I loop my hand around his friend's fingers and twist his wrist.

He lets out a pained howl and moves to free himself. I use his momentum to throw him into Clementine's boyfriend. There's a loud smack as their heads connect.

I spin to throw a punch at the third boy but he beats me to it, already mid swing by the time I turn. His fist connects with my jaw, but there's hardly any force behind it. My eyes narrow at him, as I touch my fingertips to my lip. Liquid copper spreads on my tongue. I put some distance between us as the others regain their composure.

I ready myself for their attack but instead watch the anger dissolve from their faces as the back-door swings closed.

Brittany's eyes flick between us as she pops her gum. "You guys should go." She takes a few slow steps and leans against me.

The boys look between each other, silently deciding their next action.

She raises an eyebrow.

"Fuck this. That dyke is some kind of mutant anyway," one of them says. They start in the opposite direction, shaking their heads.

Brittany nods for me to follow her back in the club. "Your fan club is persistent," she says over the music.

I smile, grab a clean rag from the bar and hold it to my bloody lip.

Brittany moves in front of me, leaning up against the bar, as she takes the rag from my hand and analyzes the cut on my lip.

"I'm sorry. I didn't start it," I say, my eyes lingering on her lips. I wouldn't do anything to potentially ruin this night. I rest my hand against the bar top, enclosing Brittany between it and my body.

She dabs the blood away. "It's kind of hot." She smiles.

"You think so? I can ask someone to punch me in the face again."

Brittany giggles. "Stop flirting with me. I'm still mad at you." She hands me the rag.

"How can I make it up to you?" I ask.

She shrugs; flashes a flirty smile. "Come on vacation with me."

As I'm about to respond, one of the bartenders slaps me on the back. "Hey, I need the glasses restocked."