Summer School for the Teenage Soul [Inactive]

"Come on boy, bark. Woof, woof." Gene growled, his eyes narrowing into slits, lips pursing in distaste.


Time slowed in front of Gene as he watched a fist connect with Damien's face. Anger simmered tightly in his chest almost to the point of boiling over. Instinctively the Cajun shoved the boy away from the Frenchmen. "Don' you f*ckin' touch him. Ya here me?!" Gen seethed, a bony fist flew into the boys right cheek. "You jus' don' know when ta' quit."
 
"Tanner is not here at the moment, please try your call later." he responded with a mouth full of sudsy toothpaste. After spitting into a nearby trashcan, he looked at Red. She was disheveled and panicky, standing in the doorway. "Oh, It's you." He replied, sounding high as a kite. "Tyke here punched Rude and then Pret--Gene," he said catching himself mid-sentence, "Gene separated the two. I told them not to hit him, right guys?" Tanner ended, holding the spray-can in their direction. "Its not my fault they didn't listen."
 
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Happy as he was to have dealt some damage, he never saw the counter coming. The blow made him stumble backwards and he nearly tripped over his own feet. Almost immediately his cheek began to throb. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew he didn't stand a chance against the two of them, but he refused to chicken out now. "I'll leave the touching to you," he snapped back as wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He didn't strike again, but he didn't back down either.
 
"You're going to be sorry for that."


Right. Like the little bastard could hurt him. What was he going to do, call his mommy and-


"BAISE! Petite merde!" Damien snarled, clutching his jaw and turning his head, his eyes flashing with burning anger. The previous fuzz he'd had vanished with the dull aching pain that now lurched in his face. He rolled his shoulders back, stepping forward so that he was close to the boy. It was surprising the amount of force the stringy little kid was able to pack into that punch.


And suddenly Gene was on top of the kid with a sharp punch, and Damien couldn't help but smile slightly. If the kid came back up after that hit, which would be surprising considering the strength he imagined the Cajun could pack into a punch, it would be Damien's turn. He wanted a go now that he was riled up. Now that he could feel the blood pumping through his veins like fire. The kid snapped back up, defiant but no longer outwardly agressive.


"Do you know who you just punched? You are very lucky I do not have my guards with me, little man. See, next time you do that, to me or to my friends, I will handle you myself. And I will be less gentle with you than my guards would be," he hissed, bending down so that his face was level with the boy's. "Are we clear?"
 
Inside, he was quivering like a twig caught in a storm, but on the outside only defiance showed. He could make out every little detail in the boy's face as he intimidated him. His heart skipped a beat as his mind translated the words, phrases, sentences into meaningful sensations. Pain, humiliation. Yet he remained where he was, feet bolted to the ground, back straight, eyes ablaze. "You need guards?" Evan breathed. Whoever this boy was, he was either lying, or extremely important. Evan wagered the former to be true.


Every neuron in his brain told him to turn and walk away, run even. But his limbs had different plans. "You have a bit of blood," Evan kindly informed the boy as he pointed to his cheek. Before the other could even respond he jerked his knee into his gut, flung his arms around his neck and put his inconsiderable weight behind it as he launched himself at him. As soon as they would hit the ground he would smash that arrogant face to pulp.
 
Fuming mad, she steps up to the two guys and attempts to pull Evan from Damian, not hardly being able to handle the weight on her own.
 
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"You need guards?"





Damien rolled his eyes. "Yes, my father is Francis Babin-"


Fool me once, Shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.


A sharp knee to the gut had Damien, the sophisticated frenchman, spitting up his lunch. Sh*t, it appeared raw fish and knees to his stomach did not mix. Still, he was steady enough on his legs that the tug on his neck from the other teenager just caused him to stagger forward several steps. Fully enraged, bile on his nice shirt and a wild look in his eyes, Damien attempted to grab the kid's sides and shove him into the wall behind them. His dominant left hand swung a hard hook at the boy's temple, aiming to finish the fight and finish it quickly. He hadn't wanted to fight a kid, but circumstances had called for it. The snot had to pay, it was as simple as that.
 
As soon as the other didn't topple over, he knew he was in trouble. His back slammed into a wall. With the other boy pushing so relentlessly he couldn't lift an arm to defend against the incoming blow. The whoop tilted his vision and blurred the edges. Something inside of him slackened, as if the plane of the world had been pulled from under his feet. Dazed and confused he could only make out the angry face in front of him, a face that he already hated more than he'd ever imagined possible. If he had the power left in his arms to hit back, he would've, but he only managed to offer some feeble resistance. He knew the next hit would come soon, yet all he could wonder was how hard the principal and his father would punish him for getting in another fight straightaway. He feared their angry voices more than he feared the white hot knuckles that had scorched his skin.
 
Her face and upper chest as red as her hair, she stormed from the room letting the guys fight. 'if the kid wanted to get his a** in trouble, let him' she thought as she walked. 'You would've thought that someone that was supposed to be more mature would realize that it was a kid he was hitting.' She blew a stray lock of hair from her face as she exited the library for the bathroom.
 
Both hits connected, and there was a brief high of victory before he felt the kid slack underneath his hands. Though his pounding heart cried to continue to hit the boy, Damien stopped and pulled back, a brief flicker of concern over his face. He didn't want to hurt the kid. Try as he may, the boy had a low likelihood of dealing Damien any serious damage. It was not an equal fight, but now that he'd proven his point he saw no need to continue. His lesson had been taught.


Standing up, the frenchman wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, collecting loose bits of his vomit which he wrinkled his nose at in disgust. Like hell he was going to just stand there in his own vomit all day. His fingers unbuttoned his shirt, which he tossed in the general direction of the kid. He was cold now under the powerful blast of the A/C, and his skin rose in goose bumps.


"Now, I do not want trouble. I have beat you. We have fought and settled out disagreement like men. Let that be the end of it. We never fought. Clear?" Damien ordered, crossing his arms and staring down at Evan, his eyes narrowed in distrust.
 
Groggy and shaken, Evan clumsily caught the shirt thrown at him in reflex. A flash of red hair stormed out of the small study room. "What?" Evan breathed, confused and doing his best to remain standing on his spaghetti legs. His attention was drawn to the boy again who now towered over him, barechested. Looking up at slightly bloodied lips, then down at the shirt and back up again, he began to understand that the shirt was the boy's. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around what the boy was saying. Clutching one hand to his temple and crumpling up the shirt in the other, he sagged down against the wall and tried to ignore the red liquid that dropped from his nose on to the floor. When the boy asked him if he'd understood, Evan simply nodded and muttered a mocking, "yes Sir," before gritting his teeth in an attempt to fight the pain in his skull. The only thing keeping him from telling the principal about the row was that he'd be punished too. After all, he did strike first,
 
In the bathroom, she learned back against the wall and shrunk to the floor. She held her head trying to push away memories of her father and little brother, Matt in a position similar to that. Pushing the memories away, she pulled out her anxiety medicine and popped in one getting up to get water from the tap to swallow it.
 
"Bloody hell, he's gone and done it." Jason heard the commotion and decided to go where they were to break it up, muttering to himself "I bloody told him, but I guess he is just as immature."


He saw Ariana storm out though before he got there and go to the bathroom. If Jason is entirely honest, he gave more shits for Ariana who he befriended than the kid who kicked the hornets nest.


He walked over to outside the bathroom door, to not disturb her privacy.


"Hey, you OK? Your face was not a good one just then walking out."


Sent from Nexus 5 because yay phones and Tapatalk
 
Putting her pill bottle back into her bag she sighed and wiped away the water that started to gather around her eyes. Looking towards the bathroom door, she said unemotionally "it's open."
 
Jason came in quietly.


"Oh...you...don't look so....do you want anything?"


He wasn't sure what to do, keeping calm and composed but also genuinely worried.


Sent from Nexus 5 because yay phones and Tapatalk
 
(Beats me, I'm still waiting on Cierra I guess if this is still up :P )


Sent from Nexus 5 because yay phones and Tapatalk
 
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