"This is it!" Martin says to me. Normally, this would mean my cousin is talking about a girl, but no. Not this time.
We're sitting at the cafeteria having coffee, something we just recently discovered, because this is one crude winter morning, and coffee is definitely the best way to inject some warmth into your bones, at least without drinking alcohol.
"This is exactly it!" I say, sipping on my own Styrofoam cup.
"I don't really get what you guys see in coffee," Vee says. Yep, I have finally started calling her Vee, just like Martin does.
We're holding hands under the table, and I squeeze hard because her hand is so cold, I want to pass on some of my own heat to her.
"Here," I say. "I know you don't like it but, just hold it in your hands for a bit." I offer her my cup and she hesitates for a moment, then takes hold of my coffee. I can see how the heat warms her hands, because her relief is fully visible on her face. I lean over and kiss her cheek. Martin looks at us and smiles at us proudly, like we're his own children or some shit.
Our English teacher is on medical leave, so we have two free periods. Vee and I are okay just sitting here, but Martin is clearly getting restless. He takes his last sip of coffee, and just as he's ready to leave, Leslie Durham, aka tenth grade's famous bombshell, aka nine out of ten, and the girl most CJ High guys would definitely bang, and now aka Poor Leslie, walks down the stairs and into the cafeteria. There's this moment when her eyes meet Martin's, and she almost flinches, but she keeps walking towards the counter as if she doesn't see anything out of the ordinary.
That smile, the one born from the fourth ring of hell, flashes across my cousin's face and I know what he's thinking. He's gonna make Leslie his plaything again.
"You seriously shouldn't do this, Marty," I say to him, and Vee nods her head in agreement.
"You're such a bad person, Marty," Vee completes. "Why do you keep messing with poor Leslie?"
'Poor Leslie' is sort of her new nickname. When Martin can't decide on someone's heart to toy with, he goes back to Poor Leslie. One would think that she should hate this guy and kick him all the way to Croatia when he tries to get back with her, but no; this girl is one of those hopeless, helpless girls who still believes she's going to be the one, even after he's played her a second time, only two weeks ago.
It seems that Leslie had undergone a lot of kissing practice since her first round with Martin, so he broke up with her in a fit of jealousy because, how could he even date a girl who would kiss just about anyone? Of course, Martin wasn't jealous. He just wanted an excuse to dump her.
As expected, and just like the first time, the rumor spread like wildfire. She stopped being the bad kisser and became the girl who is a pro because she makes it her habit to kiss anyone and everyone. The list of guys claiming having made out with her is very long. And it's getting longer, even now. Other rumors say she's looking for a school transfer to run away from her bad reputation, but apparently that's not an easy thing to do in July.
So Poor Leslie is now trying very hard to keep a very low profile, because everyone at school is making fun of her. And when she sees Martin, the way she does right now, she just doesn't know where to hide.
In short, Martin is being pretty shitty.
I watch in disbelief as he walks straight over to her, paying no heed to what Vee and I just told him. Leslie clearly wants to flee, but her feet don't move.
"I can't watch this anymore," Vee says, leaving my coffee cup on the table before getting up and walking away.
I gulp down my coffee, drop the cup in the trash, and rush after her, reaching her halfway into the hall. She's walking fast: she's pretty annoyed.
"I could punch him, I swear."
"Yeah, I kinda know the feeling."
"I mean, most of the time he's a really nice guy, but..." Her frustration is palpable. Knowing there's nothing she can do to stop it makes her feel even worse. "When some girl is involved he turns into this hideous uncaring monster."
"It's probably Leslie's fault, too," I say, and Vee shoots me an angry frown, so I'm forced to qualify my statement. "I mean, the girl could consider saying 'no' for a change."
Vee sighs, even more frustrated, and leans against me. I hold her tightly against me, and kiss the top of her head.
"She should say no. I hate to agree, but this is also on her."
We inch our way to our spot under the stairs, and just sit down there, as close as we can be while still being two separate individuals. I take her hands in mine, rubbing them softly together to keep them warm.
"I wish some strong-willed girl would come along and teach him a lesson," I say.
"Someone like Candace?"
I give this some thought before answering. Candace is the kind of girl who could lead Martin by the nose whenever and however she wanted, for sure. But Martin would also know it from the start.
"Marty won't fall for someone like her. She's too old for him, and, I hate to say this, he's smart enough to know it wouldn't work."
"I guess he is."
We both sigh in defeat, leaning more onto each other, as if that's actually possible.
Twenty minutes later, Martin finds us in our staircase retreat. He has this pleased smile across his face, so it's easy to tell he succeeded.
"I'm not gonna bump fists with you for this, cousin."
"She actually brushed me off," Martin says.
"She did?!" Vee asks in awe. Then she pumps her fist. "Way to go, girl!"
"Your smile suggests the opposite," I say.
"Because I'm actually glad she did," Martin says, and for once, he actually sounds honest.
"Of course, you are," Vee says sarcastically.
"Indeed, I am." His devilish dimpled grin almost deforms his features. "Now I feel wonderfully challenged. It's the best scenario ever!"
"Do you think you could be... I don't know, talked out of this, Martin?"
"What's the big problem, Vee?" Martin snaps. "I like the girl and she likes me."
Vee frowns. "That is not the problem and you know it."
"Okay, you can both calm down now," I say, and they look off in opposite directions, visibly offended. "You know I agree with her on this, brother. You've screwed with Leslie enough. You could get into some real trouble if you don't stop this madness."
"How so?"
"What if the rumors are true and she's actually looking for a transfer? That means her parents would be involved, which will in turn involve the principal," I explain, but Martin is quick to brush me off.
"Those are only rumors. We're almost half-way into the year. She can't transfer, anyway."
"You're missing the point again." Vee's voice is quickly reaching twenty decibels, and I bet even Martin can tell her anger is ramping up. "If she talks to her parents about this, you're going to be in trouble. And since she can't actually transfer, they'll be extra harsh on you, just to make sure you stay away from her."
"Come on, Vee. It's not like I started those rumors."
"You totally did without realizing it," she says, completely serious. "And they did start because of you."
Martin groans in exasperation. He's wrong and he knows it, but there's some kind of inner voice in his head telling him to get things his way no matter the cost. Except, he can't outsmart Vee, especially when he knows she's right. And she usually is.
After school, I walk Vee home as usual. We stand on her doorstep, hugging tightly to fight off the cold, because the sun isn't strong enough to make much of a difference.
"Wanna have lunch with me, John?"
I gotta admit this sounds tempting as hell, particularly the part about getting out of this cold to spend more time with my beloved Vee.
"I'd love to," I tell her, inching closer to kiss her cold lips. But as soon as our lips part, I see Martin appear over Vee's shoulder, running down the street as though he's on fire. There are two guys chasing him.
"Martin?" I call out.
Vee barely manages to see them when she turns around, and because I don't have much time to think, I throw off my backpack and make a mad run over to them.
They have probably been chasing him for a while now, because they all look pretty tired and I catch up to them easily, grabbing one of the guys by the collar and yanking my arm back with full force. Since he wasn't expecting me, he loses his balance and falls down like a sack of hammers, banging his head against the sidewalk. I don't know if he's okay, but there's no way I'm stopping to find out. The other guy notices, but he's about to catch my cousin so he keeps up his hot pursuit.
The guy grabs Martin's clothes before I can reach him. He is bigger than Martin and has no trouble pinning him hard against the nearest wall, and then, horrified, I watch him repeatedly punch Martin right in the stomach.
High on momentum, I execute a perfect Yoko Tobi Geri—that's a standard karate flying kick, in case you don't know—devastating enough to make this big guy drop. It's the first time I've actually engaged in a real combat, and even though both my form and execution are flawless, the feeling of my sneaker making contact with his right cheek just feels wrong. Knowing karate doesn't mean you should be using it carelessly.
The guy flies through the air for a few feet before falling on his side with a heavy thud, but he quickly recovers. Martin, on the other hand, is on his knees and clutching his abdomen, gasping for air.
"Who the fuck are you?!" the guy finally roars, and then spits out a wad of thick blood onto the pavement. I keep my fighting stance and brave up for what I think might be a long fight. If that kick didn't knock him out, nothing will, and he's angry enough to fight a lion. I don't think I can talk my way out of this fight either, although it never hurts to try.
"Listen," I say. "I don't want to fight you, but this guy you're trying to beat up is my cousin." I point at Martin, who still can't fill his lungs with sufficient air and is turning a shade of purple. This guy knocked the wind out of him, but I know that it looks worse than it actually is. Martin will be fine in a minute or two.
"Well, you're standing in my way so I guess you're in for some beating up, too."
"Wait, don't be like this, let's talk about it. We can work this out." I put my palms in front of me, and it all feels very movie-like. But this guy doesn't listen and just lunges forward. I see the punch coming at me as if it's in slow motion, and at that very moment, I am grateful I've been practicing karate for half my life. Fast as lightning, I grab his forearm and quickly kick the back of his knees, taking him down. I put his forearm on his back and push him to the floor. It takes only a second or two, but it's already game over for this dude. The guy cries out in pain; I know how much this lock hurts on the arm, but I'm too scared to let him go. "Now, please, let's talk. Who are you, and why are you trying to kill my cousin?"
"Does the name Leslie Durham ring any bells?!" he shouts, his face twisted in pain. "I'm her brother, and I'm gonna kill this son-of-a-bitch for messing with her!"
And still in his arm lock, he explains some things neither Martin nor I knew. Like the fact that Leslie ended up having a really hard time after Martin 'dated' her, for lack of a better word. She's not only been depressed over the whole thing, she's been talking back to her parents, her friends have stopped hanging out with her because of the rumors, and now her grades are sinking like stones in deep water.
If it's all true, I'd be kicking Martin's ass if I were Leslie's brother, too. I let him go, and he slumps against the same wall he punched my cousin against, wincing and holding his arm. The other guy—the one I dropped on the pavement—inches by, holding the back of his head. His hand is stained with blood. He doesn't seem to know what to do next, so he just stands there in silence. Martin can finally breathe again, and sits right next to his attacker, heaving as his lungs find their rhythm once again.
"I... I didn't know it went... that far," he says, and I know he means it, even though it's kind of too little; too late.
"Look, you just shut up," Durham says. He's calmed down a few degrees, but he's still angry.
"Hey," a voice says. I look around to find we're surrounded by half a dozen 1970s British punks. Alex is the one who speaks first.
"What's going on here? Are you guys okay?"
"I'm unscathed and Martin's gonna be fine. And anyway, this is all his fault."
I tell him all about Leslie as quick as I can, so he actually understands the root of the problem. When I'm done, Alex doesn't say anything. He just frowns. He isn't happy with Martin. Nobody is. But I grab my cousin's arm and pull him to his feet. And while Alex talks to Leslie's brother, one of his friends checks the injured guy's head. Finally, everyone has calmed down, and I allow myself to exhale.
But for me, this isn't over. Meaning, I turn around and without giving it a second thought, punch Martin square in the face. He stumbles backwards, and then plops down hard on his ass. His big green eyes look up at me with a mixture of shock and confusion.
I'm grinding my teeth, heaving with anger and frustration. I need to vent up somehow before I kill my cousin.
"I hate it! I really hate to be the kind of guy who says 'I told you so', but, you know what? I fucking told you so! I told you not to mess with girl's hearts like that! I told you to leave Leslie alone; that you'd get in trouble. Both Vee and I told you this several times, but did you listen? NO! Do you EVER listen? Noooo! You never fucking listen to a fucking thing I fucking say! You stupid! Fucking! IDIOT! I got into a freaking fist fight because you're too much of a fucking MORON to know how to do the right thing!"
Martin sets his gaze on the floor and for once, doesn't say a word. Alex drapes an arm around me, and does his best to talk me down as we walk home. I don't know what happens next. But I don't speak to Martin for the rest of the day. He does his best to avoid me, anyway, and that's probably for the best.
I go to bed early, but Martin stays in the living room watching late-night TV shows. It's past two a.m. when he finally makes his way to bed. I'm still awake, and somehow he knows it.
"You saved my fucking ass today, Johnny." He's using his hushed voice, the one that actually sounds genuine. "I didn't really deserve it, though." He struggles to get comfortable in his bed. "And you were right about everything you said. I AM a moron, and I've been doing some really shitty stuff. I promise you I'll make amends."
I don't answer him; I'm not letting him get off that easy. Because for Martin, it's always been easy. But not this time. This time he's gone too far.
The next day, I wake him up the same way I do every morning. And it's like nothing happened, except he now has a black, swollen eye. When Vee asks about it, Martin tells her the whole story, of course embellishing it so that it's way more dramatic than it actually was. Finally, he admits that I went all Bruce Lee on him. Vee laughs hard at this. Nobody would assume it was me who gave him the shiner. She holds my hands and kisses my cheek, but she's still laughing.
"Well done, Johnny Lee."
***
I honestly don't know how Martin does it, but the rumors about Leslie stop cold within a few days. It all happened after he publicly apologized to her in front of a full cafeteria. I also saw him talking to Leslie's old friends, and by the end of the day, most of them were hanging out with Leslie again. You might think this should give closure to the whole thing but don't be fooled. This is Martin we're talking about, who somehow always seems to win in the end. So, he ends up dating Leslie again, except this time it's for real. She's the one for over three weeks—definitely a Guinness-worthy World Record.