His Gray Half

7. He's A Fixer...Or Not

CHAPTER SEVEN:
||HE'S A FIXER...OR NOT!||

•••

ADRIAN MCCLERON

"It's him uh?"
The words soaked in displeasure ran out of my mouth the moment I spotted him. I stopped to lean against a locker, and studied him a bit: his brows all furrowed were hovering over his eyes beaming in alertness; fingers folding a fist, ready to pound; and his semi frail body already turning pink, was stuck in the middle of three boys far larger than he was.

I immediately deciphered what was happening.

"I doubt he'd intended to offend him, but I guess that's what happens when you're a do-gooder in glasses."
He wasn't in glasses, but I do like to imagine what he'd be like in one: those forest green eyes mostly shaded by a translucent frame, like a forest encased in thin layers ice and frost. The stereotypical nerd. How poetic!
A sinister chuckle glazed my throat as I continued watching him frightened. I stifled the laugh, and moved in, clad in silver armor and excalibur: his to-be hero! The thought of "his hero" almost had me knees laughing -not at him, at me. So ironic of me!

I saw him flinch to a blow flying for his face, which struck his nose, causing it to bleed.

Watching him defenseless stirred me unusually. It was like a quick jab of anger and hate, heavy as it easily disintegrated. Normally I would simply walk by, and ignore the whole bully scene: why get mixed up in someone else's crap? This time it was different.

"I don't know him. Why should I care?" I tried to turn a blind eye and walk past, but the option of returning to the gym, or using another exit at the back, would be more of a hassle. I growled in exhaustion.

I made a fist on my right and arched to the side of my waist, as I reluctantly approached for a confrontation. I heard a slight whimper drop off his lips, and as it did, was another stirring cutting through my chest, instantly tightening my fist and quickening my steps.

"Cowards!" I bellowed at them, and freed my moulded fingers.

They turned to me.

"People like you make me sick..." I said. "You all sicken me to the core." My teeth gritted in rage, yet I continued speaking. "I would so love to break your bones, but it'll be even better to watch you suffer in other ways."

They heard me say, and loosened their grips on his neck, and grounded their attention on me: their new victim.

"But..." I continued. "I'm in a good mood now, so, you have three seconds to scram before the securities arrive. Your choice!"

"You may be a hot shot McCleron, but three against one is an uneven number, even for you!"
One of the boys spoke out, as he tugged on my neck, and the others agreed with a smirk glued to their faces.

I sighed, and palmed my face. I inhaled deeply, and with the exhalation were a much bigger threat lashing from my voice, screaming.

"Oooverrrr Heeere!!! Bullyyy!"
I shouted at the top of my voice, and immediately were whistles lurching at my ears from different directions, so were steps hurriedly pounding the ground.

They heard it too.

"This isn't over nerd!" One of them said, while trying to hurry away from the scene.

Watching them run, made me relieved. I turned to him, running my eyes over his body, "stupid lace knotting: that'd turn to Gordon's soon. Botany... Applied mathematics... Nerd textbooks! What else was messed up by those punks? Nothing!" and I didn't find anything out of place, other than a slight rumple over this neck of his t-shirts.