These boots are made for stomping,
a
nd that's just what they'll do.
One of these days, these boots are gonna stomp all over you...
Stomping Boots ~ Symarip
💀💀💀
Thursday - October 4th
Morning comes early in the House of the Rising Raisins, and I am anxious to face the day. I want so badly to bequeath unto May, Thor the thunder gods boots. To gift them right to her, the first moment I spot her in the morning in homeroom. Then watch her go forth and stomp the crap out of the world.
But I know better than to tempt the fate that awaits. So while it's going to kill me to wait until lunch, but wait I must. For first thing in the morning I don't have time to ensure a proper fit, before sending her forth into battle. Not to mention the tiny little evil garden gnome that haunts our mornings is not a kindly creature to those more fortunate than he, by any means. So into my locker Thor's boots must go for safekeeping, until the fated hour of their unveiling.
I walk the seven flights of stairs up past the leaning Tower of Doom and right into the mouth of Hell like I own the place. Drifting through the doors of C-22 slightly ahead of the Hell's bells and right past Or'sir. Who is standing there impotently under the Important Announcement boom box, without a second glance down at the clown. Or'sir, of course, greets me with his best garden gnome glare-stare.
Thankfully May is in her usual spot for homeroom, sitting stiffly upright in all her dark feisty glory. So I slip down the shiny tiles and drop anchor on my spot.
"Morning May, how are doing you today?" I announce with a singsong smile before sliding into my spot in front of her.
"Oh, let me see?" She quirks a hard smirk with shiny teeth. "Well, I recently learned a terribly useful, yet highly weirdy first aid trick to add to my witty repertoire. Wanna see me try it on you?"
"Sounds super cool." I smartly retort right back at her playing along. "And I have this just simply awful headache right on the center of my forehead to boot. Do you think your new triage trick might help me make some new friends? I've been meaning to ask that Butcher boy in English if he wants to be pals? Maybe he can come over to my house and play charades with the Raisins sometime? Sounds like your trick might be just the ticket I've been searching for to break the ice."
May bursts out laughing so hard, I almost give her an armbar shield to keep her from falling out of her seat and on the floor. Which of course was my intention, to lighten her mood...sans the whole falling out of her chair and on to the floor part of course.
"Oh my god Mr. Devil, you are so bad in your awful awfulness." When she finally recovers from her laugh attack. Gods alive, how I adore those shiny slices of her sharp-fanged smile.
"Please stand for the pledge of allegiance..." The box on the wall drones, and the flock obediently rises to their feet to take their daily oaths and swear their loyalty.
I instantly jump up to give May an hand up to her feet. Which now she allows thanks to the awkwardness of the brace strapped to her leg. After all the swearing ends, we retake our seats and begin to chatter about nothing as the rest Important Announcements continue.
Or'sir drops by with another detention for me with his usual theatrical flourish. Which I immediately pocket to add to the rest of my collection of things I no longer care about. Also thanks to May's brace situation, it seems that Study Buddies firmly in the schwe'dule for the duration anyways. So I have plenty of time to burn...and many miles to go before I can even start to care.
When the bell finally rings for the next class and I am up and at 'em, snatching May's bowling bag off the back of the floor.
"Okay May, I got your bowling bag, so let's roll out and get you to number learning." I put some happy in my voice for her to hear, and give her an arm to hold onto. "Which reminds me, I have something of a lucky charm to show you at lunch."
"Show me?" May replies dryly, as in ...show me now or never.
"At lunch, when you can feel their soles." I intone ominously.
"Oh no Mr. Devil, you brought me souls for lunch?" She sighs sadly. "Please tell me you did not bring dead things to school again, thinking that was a good luck thing."
"No, I learned my lesson about bringing dead things to school the first time." I snort in retort. "Cause man on fire, that first parent-teacher conference with a Donna Momma was a nightmare and a half."
"To this day, I still can't stop laughing at the fact Teacher History actually thought a powwow with drunken crazy cakes was going scare me straight and narrow. Yep, we sure showed Teacher His Story a thing or two about why you don't make demands in Insanistan." I smile along with that loving memory. "But to answer your original question, no dead things for lunch. Well not unless you're planning on having Someone's Sisters coven of cheer stop by again?"
"Dare, you promised to be a little nicer?" She sighs, but I can tell her dark mood is lifting, which was my main mission after all.
"Yeah, I suppose it is good to try new things." I can only halfheartedly agree.
We do the slow march down the long hall, taking our sweet time to avoid any potential pitfalls. I swoop her right into her numbers learning throne with gracile ease. Gently placing her bowling bag at her feet on the back of her chair in the front corner.
"Okay, the bag is set on the floor at your feet." I inform her. "So let the number learning begin."
"Yay, numbers." May drones softly, and then gives me the ol' heave-ho get gone, in perfect piratical shanty cadence. "So kick bricks bro, and please try to stay out of trouble with Or'sir and Butchy later. You already got-got once today, so let's not endeavor set the school record for most detentions in a day, shall we not brah?"
"Maybe we shall one day ...but sadly today is not that day." I laugh along and bounce out the door.
I even chin-check Butchy on his way in for another day of Trainspotting with his Numbers Coach. Butchy chin checks me back, before steeling himself for yet another morning of misunderstanding math.
I waste another morning of droning through the day, as time passes way to slowly for my taste. It's almost as if time itself has conspired to become my mortal enemy today. When I can finally escape yet another fitness test with the psychotic idiot Chad, who thinks he's turning boys into men, "the hard way". I roll out of the locker room and hit the lunch shelter, to find that May is already waiting on Devil May Care Island. I slide in on our secret spot just as April takes her leave of us, with a silent nod off.
So far the bathroom détente has held up, as April and I have barely traded anything besides May. It seems that we have a routine that is regimented now, and no longer need waste any time on false pleasantries, nor outright hostilities. We just tag in and out of May's life almost seamlessly, without as much as a single slice or mean word edgewise. So I drop right into my usual place and put the brown grocery bag down next to May on the benches.
"Oooo, that sounds promising." May grins greedily down at the sound of the big brown bag, probably hoping I brought more brownies. "So you keep your souls in a lunch bag?"
"Well if you must know, I didn't get to give you anything for your birthday last year. So I got you a little something-something to go with your new look." I gently guide her hand to the rolled up brown bag. "I just hope they fit."
May tentatively reaches inside the bag and feels around, then rocks her crown in consternation.
"You brought me boots?" May brings out the boots, for their unveiling.
"Not just any old boots, but steel-toed stomping boots, with armored steel shin plates." I politely correct. "I figured if you're gonna keep kicking shit, you should give these shit kickers a try?"
"Cause these bad girls are Thor's Valkyrie boots. So you can pretty much smash into anything you want and keep on stomping. Hell's bells, I almost feel sorry for the next new piece of fake Pier One crap that Chin's brings in and tries to pass off as authentic. Because these bad girls will break that crap, way before you break a toe."
"What color are they?" She inquires inquisitively up at me.
"All black, with shiny steel shin skid plates. and black leather tank straps. So once you're buckled in you won't ever have to worry about laces coming undone again." I confirm for her. "But the real question is do they fit?"
"Huh?" May is already slipping off her saddle shoes in order to try on Thor's thunder boots. She slips her petite feet inside these angry girl boots and smiles brightly. I love that smile even more than before, because I am sure I put it there with my little gift.
"So how do they feel?" I ask hesitantly.
"Actually awesome." She confirms with a slight smile. "And they even have a little room to grow in the toes."
"Very cool." I can finally relax.
"Wait a minute," May tilts her head over to the side suspiciously. "How did you know my shoe size?"
"If you recall, we traded socks the other day? So I sorta kept yours in the trade." I shove my hands in my poncho pockets and take out the now washed bloodless bobby socks, handing them over.
"Dude, stalking much?" She snorts, dropping the socks into her bowling ball bag.
"Ah?" I stumble for the truth that will not sound too truthful.
"Relax Mr. Devil, I'm just messing with you." She snortles, and I swear could listen to that sonorous sound for all eternity.
"Very cool of you. So let me just get the straps buckled tight, and then we will know for sure what's what." I kneel down in supplication to affix the tank straps tight, and secure her into these bad girls.
"Honestly, I haven't even taken my first step yet, but I already love them." Her smile starts to fade away slightly. "But they feel really expensive, Darren. And I don't want you spending any of your money on me..."
"No worries May, they were very reasonable. After all, I have all that male escort money coming in, so I thought I'd..." Switch tracks real fast to something else besides me and my money issues. "Anyways, once you get used to them, we can even put some big spikes on the front toe plate, if you want?"
I happily offer, because I want the smile back. But also because it's true, that she can do more than anyone else thinks she can do. So if she wants three-inch coffee table killer spikes on her boots? Then I'll gladly get them for her, most especially if it means the furniture gets broken, and not her.
"Thank you, Dare ...these are seriously cool." May beams brightly.
"Cool." I agree.
"Can you hold my hand?" She reaches out for me and I take her small elfinine hand in mine.
May holds onto my hand for balance as she slowly pushes up to standing, and adjusts her stance to balance on the unfamiliar. I watch as she goes through the process of feeling out through her feet. Slowly rocking back and forth, to get a feel for the balance of her new found height. She shifts from side to side, flexing the feel of her new shit kickers. As she takes her first tentative steps, testing out in her new stomping boots. I watch her wince when she favors her right leg, where the bone bruise is located. Then the wincing grimace slowly morphs into a wide grim grin.
"Oh my god, Mr. Devil! These are so freaking awesome sauce!" May giggles so hard it almost hurts.
She standing in front of me smiling shyly, wobbling from side to side. While she balances in her new boots, it hits me like a winter wave. That there might never be anything in the entire world as beautiful as this girl's shy smile in a pair of sexy black biker boots.
Across the lunch shelter, where the coven of cheer holds court, I spot Someone's Sister. She is standing among the Fearleaders, and watching us very intently. She tilts her head over at her sister and scowls down at May's rocking. Then turns her scathing right in to me. Her eyes narrow into calculating slits and then she does the most un-April thing ever? She slowly smiles and makes the universal symbol for "Okay, that's actually cool". Then with the obligatory whip crack snap of her super sharp pony tail all the cheer in the world evaporates. She snarls a slicing smirk over her shoulder, as she cheerily returns to making someone else's life a living nightmare.