Vance woke up hours later. He stood up, groaning loudly. Now the warm morning light shown down on his bruised skin.
He stretched out and sighed, wishing he had a cigarette on him. He shoved the cravings down and reluctantly headed to school. He was likely going to skip but he wanted to check on Finney and Robin.
He walked in and was immediately noticed by the hall monitor and was sent to class. Of course it was art. What else could it be with his luck? He plopped down roughly into his seat.
Bruce said nothing. He just continued working on the project before him, which looked really good.
Vance was confused at the lack of insults thrown but said nothing and leaned back in his chair as usual. He watched at the noirette worked on his portion of the project.
He questioned Bruce's actions but pushed the thoughts back for now.
Until it came down. All over him murky reddish water spilled onto his blond hair and down his shoulders. It soaked his jacked and stained his already dirty hair. He saw Bruce laugh quietly to himself before turning to Vance.
"Oh, are you okay?" He asked in a mocking tone. Vance snapped and lunged forward at the taller.
He knew he did this. It was his doing. All of it.
He took him to the ground and his fist collided with his face. He sat on his chest as he beat his face bloody. He gritted his teeth in pain and anger. Bruce smiled under him as he laid back, not even hardly bothering to fight back.
"What's so funny? What so fucking funny, Huh?!" He muttered enraged. He grabbed his collar and pulled him up slightly off the cold floor.
"You're just proving everything right. You're just an angry, irrational dog." He smiled through the blood. "A Mutt on the streets." He whispered softly. Vance's face scrunches in anger as he looked up around the room.
Everyone was scared. They wouldn't even get remotely close to him, not even to help Bruce.
He gritted his teeth and slammed Bruce's head back on the cold hard floor before he stood up and walked out.
He knew he was right. He was angry and irrotational. This was just proving what everyone already thought, and there was no going back. He was done. Lucky if he didn't get expelled and lucky if his father just decided to kill him when he went home.
He went to the bathroom Finney always went to. He knew one or both would be there. It was only Finney today, which was okay. Finney was nice, a little wimpy but he was smart, and when it was needed he could throw a few good punches.
"Hey Vance," Finney smiled but immediately noticed something was wrong. "What happened?" He sat on the porcelain sink. "I might've just fucked up big time. Put a bigger target on our backs."
Vance also knew that anytime he fucked it up effected the others too, the same applied for the others.
"Shit. What happened?" Finney knew he was fucked already. "I beat the shit outta Yamada. He already hated me but now his friends will come offer us more often." He stood next to the sink taking his jacket off.
"We might be okay. I mean now that you beat Bruce fucking Yamada, Everyone might be to scared to do anything." "Maybe, but those who don't stop will just try harder. Unfortunately for you that means Moose."
Vance laid his jacket on the side and roll his stained shirt off. "Shit Vance, what happened?" Finney asked, obviously referring to the bruises. "Went home." Was all he said.
Finney knew what it was like. His dad was the same. Finney sighed and grabbed the shirt and began to run the water over it.
Vance ran some of the water over his hair the best he could while Finney rinsed his clothes. The silence between them grew slowly. "Hey B-Fin? Hey Shit head, what happened to you?" Vance stood up straight holding his wet hair up. "Yamada." Then he continued rinsing the red out of his hair. "Will you help me with his jacket? I've got his shirt." Robin nodded and grabbed the jacket.
The three of them talked for the rest of the period, then through the next. Mainly fucking around and splashing each other or pushing. The calm before the storm.