by C. L. Stone
“Someone goes over,” Greg said. He tilted his head toward where the balcony overlooked the main hallway below.
“What? Why?” I asked.
“Someone always does.”
Friday Fall. Someone gets thrown off of the second floor? Did it happen every Friday? How sick and twisted were these students? If Kota went over after being thrown, he might land on his back. He’d break his neck.
The group around Kota started moving in unison. Kota thrashed. His glasses were gone. His cheek was red and swelling. It took five of them to hang on to him and walk toward the balcony’s edge. People were yelling, some cheering. Most were watching, phone cameras recording. The group had a hard time keeping Kota up off of the ground. He fought them every step and he was hard to hang on to.
“I’ll go,” I shouted. “I’ll go over.”
“Shut up,” Greg said. “We can’t throw a fucking girl over.” Greg shot a hand out toward me, his fingers pushing against the middle of my chest, pressing my t-shirt up against my breasts.
“Sang!” Luke shouted.
North swung his body. Another student kicked him and jumped on his back. North went down next to Silas. Victor and Luke were thrown to the ground nearby.
Where were the teachers? Were they all outside? Why didn’t anyone standing by stop this?
“We have to hurry,” someone bellowed over the noise. “They’ll let them back inside in a minute.”
The group progressed, hoisting Kota above their heads again.
“Kota!” I called out. I elbowed Eric. He let go of one of my arms. His wrist crossed in front of my face.
I grabbed it with my free hand and clamped my mouth down on his arm. The taste of dirt and skin assaulted my tongue.
Eric cursed, dropping me to the floor. A kick landed on my thigh, hurling me down against the floor.
North howled. Luke bellowed. Victor was screaming my name.
The pile on top of Silas shifted up. “Sang!” Silas called out. “Fuck… shit…” I knew he couldn’t see what was going on but the hollering around him was enough to get him going.
It wasn’t enough, the guys on top of him regrouped, sending him to the ground again.
Greg gripped me by the hair, pulling me to my feet. “Stop it, bitch,” he said.
I crumbled under his grip, biting back a cry. I clawed at him, at his chest but he pulled tighter, swinging my head around where he wanted.
He smirked, his menthol breath getting close. A hand pressed against my butt, pulling me closer to him, the grip pressing into my skin. His mouth hovered over mine. “I like a fighter.”
I struck up against his jaw with my palm. I meant to slap him but that was better.
His eyes widened in surprise. He pushed me away, dropping back. I didn’t stop to see more. I flew across the hall toward the crowd, flinging myself against someone holding on to Kota. I jumped on his back, reaching for his grip on Kota’s foot. I dug my nails into his arm. He let go of Kota long enough to turn around and push me away.
It was enough. Kota was fighting again. He kicked at the person who had his other leg. He disappeared into the group around him.
“Greg, hold that damn girlfriend of yours,” Eric hollered.
I was grabbed again. I was hoisted up, pushed hard against the balcony, half of my body hanging over. A hand had me by the throat again.
“Sit still, bitch.” Greg spat at me. He pressed me against the half wall. His hands caught both of my wrists and he held them away.
He dropped a hand down to my breast and squeezed. His leg pressed up between my thighs against my crotch, he ground his knee into me hard.
Pain radiated through me, trailed heavily by disgust to make me cringe.
I wrestled with him, and pulled a wrist free. I flung a fist out blindly, striking against the center of his throat, knocking into his Adam’s apple.
Greg screamed. He pushed me away and I was going over the balcony.
“Sang!” a chorus of male voices shouted at once.
I was falling. I twisted, readying myself.
I knew before I hit the ground where I was going. The balcony wasn’t that high up, not for someone like me. I struck it feet first, my right foot getting a sharp hit. I wasn’t expecting how hard the floor of the hallway was. I sunk to my knees the moment I touched down, tucked my elbow in and forced myself into a roll, spilling out across the floor in front of a vending machine.
It took only a minute for me to recover and I was on my feet again. As I stepped forward, my right ankle bit back, letting me know it was probably sprained but I ignored it. The landing shook me, but I was fine.
From the time I fell to when I spilled out on the floor, the hall seemed to be in a dead silence.
When I started limp-running back across the hall, shouts erupted around me. I became aware of the people closing in, including from the administration offices. Somewhere among the crowd I recognized Nathan’s and Gabriel’s voices calling my name.
I didn’t stop. I zeroed in on the stairs again, leaping like a tiger up a hill against the steps to ease the bite in my foot. I was coming back for Kota and the others. No one could stop me.
A surge followed me. I sensed it like being chased in one of my dreams. Was the group chasing me going to try to stop me? I wouldn’t let them. I’d already done the Friday Fall. No one else had to go over.
Upstairs, Kota was no longer in the air. More kids were struggling against each other in the confusion, as if they were going to try to hurl anyone else over, the easiest one first.
Silas and the others were still on the ground. I jumped on one of the guys on top of Silas. I gripped at his shoulders, pushing my knees into his back to try to catch him off balance so he’d spill over. The boy pulled back off of Silas to push me away. This distracted a couple of the other guys around us and they struggled with me instead, trying to push me off.
It was all Silas needed. A foot flew out, followed by a fist. The guys on top of him started backing away. Silas was getting up.
Others that followed me from downstairs flooded around me. Fists flew. Kids holding camera phones, who were only there to watch, started running. The mob was cornered.
I struck out again at someone going after Silas. When I pushed him, he turned and hoisted me slightly as he pushed back, throwing me. I was flung across the floor. My phone sailed away from my pocket, disappearing amid the swarm. I tumbled, skidded, colliding with other students. My breath was knocked out of my lungs. I clutched at my chest, trying to will myself to breathe.
I was picked up. I struggled, clawing, biting.
The arms held strong around me. “Easy, girl,” a voice called into my ear. “We’re on your side.”
The familiar voice was enough to get me stop. Rocky held me, pressing me to his body. I coughed to get my lungs working again, sucking in air. He pulled me away from the crowd. He turned and I caught the collection of students that had joined us from downstairs. All male. All angry.
Greg was on the ground, trampled, his hands covering his throat. I wasn’t sure if he was breathing.
Kota was on his feet. One of the students that had lifted him into the air was now swinging punches. Kota raised a foot, dropping the kick against the kid’s chest. The student reeled back against the wall.
Nathan stood behind Kota, taking a defensive swing against someone else. Jay, Rocky’s friend, stood beside them, pushing another guy away.
Silas and North were up off the ground. A group of large guys tried launching at them full force to knock them against the wall. Silas and North held them back. Silas swiped at their feet, knocking two guys down. North grabbed some guy’s head and pulled him over his shoulder. The guy landed on his back at North’s feet.
Mike, Jer and other students were fighting alongside Luke and Victor and Gabriel. Other angry guys were pushing students toward the stairs. The shouts were accusing.
“Who threw her?”
“Fucked up tradition.”
�
�Chicken shit motherfuckers!”
I clutched at Rocky’s arms, wanting to get in there with them. He held me back, pulling me against the wall. “Hang back,” he commanded. I couldn’t fight him as strongly since he didn’t mean any harm.
The mob that started the mess receded. They were outnumbered now.
Kota and the others slowed as those left fighting started backing away. There were a handful of students knocked out on the ground, Greg was among them. Eric had disappeared.
“Let her go,” Silas boomed. He surged toward us against the wall.
Rocky gripped me, not understanding why Silas was so angry and coming after us. I couldn’t blame Rocky for being confused. He didn’t know us. I wrestled with Rocky to get a hand out, I held up a palm toward Silas. “Wait,” I called to him.
Silas stopped dead at my command. His fists still clenched, he gritted his teeth.
“Rocky,” I said, “Let me go.”
“You’re not going to fight again,” he said. He released me.
I dropped to my feet, stumbling toward Silas. The bite into my ankle was more painful than before.
Silas waited until I was halfway to him before he started forward again. He collected me in his arms, pulling me up off the ground, hugging me to his body. I buried my head into his shoulder, inhaling in his ocean scent. I trembled at his touch.
Nerves caught up with me. Silas was okay. The others weren’t knocked out. We were going to be okay.
More arms surrounded my waist. Hands rubbed against my scalp. Nathan’s face swam into view but I knew the other guys were there, too. I was being hugged and touched by familiar hands.
Kota voiced a command that I didn’t catch. They shifted. Silas dropped me to the floor again. Backs were turned to me, all seven of them. They stood guard around me, challenging anyone to come closer. It was us against the school. Anyone that approached got a kick or a shove back.
Mike, Jer, Rocky and Jay and others corralled students out toward the stairs. They cleared the halls.
When there was no one left to fight, teachers materialized from the side hallways. Mr. Blackbourne and Dr. Green marched up the stairs, follows by Mr. Hendricks and a handful of other teachers. They were clutching the shoulders of some of the students. Any student remaining was fleeing out of the building. Jer and Mike and some that had taken over the fight disappeared.
“Back off, guys,” Dr. Green bellowed to us. “It’s over.”
The guys didn’t move. They waited, instead, to make sure the other students were collected up.
D ouble G rounded
Dr. Green hovered over Greg and the other students who got the worst of it. Mr. Blackbourne collected Rocky, Jay, us, and a handful of other students into one of the empty upstairs classrooms. Several of the other students had been hauled off to the main office downstairs.
Mr. Morris joined us in the classroom room, too. He stood guard at the door, his arms folded over his chest, preventing anyone from leaving. Kota, North and the others quietly assembled near the back of the room to sit at the desks. Mr. Blackbourne shot looks at the guys and me, silently warning with a secret finger to his lips to keep quiet.
North had carried me into the room and I was dropped onto a desk top. He tried to check me out for injuries but with nothing obvious and with a warning look from Mr. Blackbourne, he couldn’t do much.
I drew my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. I buried my head into my knees. It was the best I could do to stop the shaking. I sensed bodies crowding around me, and I breathed in Nathan’s cypress and North’s musk.
No one touched me, even as I yearned for it. Silence hung and I knew the only thing stopping Mr. Blackbourne from talking was Jay and the other students still lingering. The only thing that stopped the boys was Mr. Blackbourne’s unspoken orders.
Secrets had to be maintained.
My lungs hurt. My ankle felt twisted. I had a throbbing headache and my mouth felt numb. Someone had punched me in the face again. My hair was mangled. I pulled my head up to collect the clip still snarled into my hair. I fingered combed my hair the best I could and reclipped it into place. Keeping busy with straitening myself out kept my mind off of what just happened. I didn’t want to think about it because it got me shaking all over again.
Silas leaned against the wall, and fingered his swollen face, wincing. Gabriel’s nose was bleeding again, but he held tissues to his face to try to clear the mess. Nathan clutched his hand to his chest, the metal cast on his finger was missing. North’s left eye was swollen shut.
Kota sat in a desk, his arms folded and his head down. Gabriel and Victor were slumped over in chairs. Luke was on his back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. The tension was heavy with unspoken anger and questions.
I sensed a motion behind me and turned on top of the desk.
“You okay?” Rocky asked, his aggressive blue-gray eyes gazing at me. He hovered over me. He didn’t look hurt. Forcing me out of the fight left him virtually untouched.
I started nodding.
His hand shot out. His thumb traced over my lower lip, re-sparking a sharp pain.
North moved into action, grabbing Rocky’s wrist.
Rocky turned, his head tilted. Confusion settling into his eyes.
“Don’t touch her,” North growled, positioning himself closer next to me. Nathan stepped closer on the other side, firing warning looks at Rocky.
Jay stood up next to Rocky. “Let him go,” he said coldly, deep, growling. I sensed movement behind me. The others were getting up to intervene.
“Stop it,” I called out. “North, let go.”
North hesitated but slowly released Rocky’s arm to gaze down at me.
I put a palm on North’s arm. I didn’t want to start another fight over something so inconsequential. I couldn’t stand anymore today. I stared down Rocky. “He helped us,” I told the others.
North grunted. The others mumbled.
Rocky pulled his thumb away, drops of my blood and saliva shining under the light. With his eyes on me, he brought his thumb to his mouth, licking my blood clean from his finger.
“Why did you start fighting?” I asked him, ignoring the growling of the guys behind me.
“No one throws a girl from the balcony,” Rocky said flatly.
“Did you know it was going to happen?”
Rocky nodded. “Happens every year. I don’t know who started it and we don’t participate. I’m fucking tired of it.”
Who did he mean by we? “But you’ve never bothered to stop it before,” I challenged.
His eyes narrowed at me but I’d made my point. It wasn’t a big deal until a girl got involved. How wrong was that?
The classroom door burst open. Mr. Hendricks stormed in, followed by a stout man wearing red Nike running pants and a zipped running jacket. A silver whistle hung off of a yellow cord around his neck. The guy pointed a finger at Jay and Rocky. “You two. And the rest of you. With me. Now.”
“Yes, coach,” Jay and Rocky said together. The other students stood up, crossing the room.
“Wait,” Mr. Blackbourne said, though listless. “We need to ask them...”
“No one interrogates my team but me,” the coach said.
Mr. Blackbourne backed off. He said what he had to say but he didn’t really appear interested in keeping them around. Mr. Hendricks stood aside, saying nothing. Jay and Rocky didn’t hesitate. They strolled out. Mr. Morris and the other students followed. Were they part of the team, too?
The moment the door closed, Mr. Hendricks spun on us. “What happened?”
Kota stepped up. His glasses were still missing. His handsome face looked swollen, bruised. Kota glanced at Mr. Blackbourne. Looks were exchanged. Mr. Blackbourne nodded in a silent command.
Kota started talking, his voice obstructed by a swollen lip, hoarse. “It started right after the fire drill sounded. When most of the teachers and other students were on their way out, that’s when Greg and his group sta
rted shoving students. I tried to stop them and Greg recognized me. When Silas and the others showed up, they isolated us. We became the target for the planned tossing of someone over the balcony.”
Mr. Hendricks spun on me, an accusing finger pointed in my direction. “And what did you think you were doing?”
I hesitated, glancing at the others. Mr. Blackbourne inclined his head briefly – permission to speak granted. “Someone got Kota’s phone,” I said. “They recognized my name and texted me to come upstairs. I think it was Greg wanting me to come watch toss him over.”
“Did you see her?” Mr. Hendricks said, turning on Mr. Blackbourne. “She launched herself over that balcony. She was up and running before we could get to her and heading back up the stairs. I never saw anything like it.”
“She’s had training,” Kota said, smirking at me. “Elementary school, wasn’t it?”
I nodded. A collection of eyes shifted to me. “I was taught how to fall. I knew I could make it. If they needed someone to go over, I was going to do it.”
A palm slapped against the back of my head. I ducked after, looking back at Gabriel’s outstretched hand nearby. “Don’t you ever fucking do that again.”
“She’s what stopped it,” Nathan said. “When she went over, the football team was standing downstairs with us. They followed her upstairs. It was fine if it was another guy. Since it was a girl, they got angry and stormed in to take them all out.”
Mr. Hendricks barked at us, “We could have had all of them out of here if it was him and not her.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. This was planned? He knew it was going to happen? But it made sense. He had to have known. It happened every year. “I messed up?”
Mr. Hendricks turned on me. “Yeah, you messed up. One of them was supposed to go over unwillingly. Instead we got you practically jumping over. The school board didn’t understand why everyone rushed up the stairs or why there was a fight. They’re asking who the acrobat is.”
Mr. Blackbourne frowned. He stepped in, standing between me and Mr. Hendricks. “That’s enough,” he commanded. “You made a circus out of this. You’re lucky she knew what she was doing and landed on her feet. The other students believe she was pushed.”