Adam - A Novella

17

I hate that boy.

Thomas stood over me, with a bunch of jocks behind him. Once again, he'd threatened me, and I didn't cooperate. So now, I had to take the punishment in the school yard, in the blind spot of the cameras. "What's wrong?" He sneered, his expression twisting into an evil smirk. "Mad I won't join your little gay club?" Whoever taught him how to be a person failed miserably. I began to stand up, but one of the jocks, a tall brash Asian boy with legs for days and midnight-colored hair, (smash), began to hustle me from the back. I skirted forward but another jock who almost looked like the security guard from the karaoke bar's son (hard pass) blocked me with his thighs, which is a sentence I never thought I'd ever say.

"You already made your own, I see." I thought that was hilarious, but Thomas didn't, because he grabbed my hair and pulled me up into a kneel, kicking my ankle in the process.

"Say some shit like that again." He dared, and I smirked as if I was interested in him. I examined my eye level, as if considering it.

"I'm just saying. And by the way you're positioning me right now, seems like you want me to join yours." The jocks snickered. Thomas threw me against the ground, and my shoulder popped with dislocation. I gasped in pain, but they weren't close to done. One of the jocks began kicking the shit out of my other shoulder, and the third jock who had a shaggy brown Justin Bieber haircut and bright green eyes (hard smash) began to twist my leg the opposite way. The Asian jock stood, still snickering, and Thomas was a few feet away, face flustered and hands shaking. "Easy on my fucking leg." I kicked it out of the twist, smacking the crap out of the Justin Bieber kid. He was not prepared for that, because thick red blood spurled down his face over his thick lips and down his chin very quickly. Tears shot out of his eyes, and he rushed toward the nurse's office like a wimp. The second jock had stopped laughing and soccer-kicked my ribs, causing me to sputter air. I fought them off, but when Thomas joined in, kicking the hell out of the leg that was previously twisted, I gave up, twisting into a ball.

I can't deal with this anymore.

Cool Adam was a fighter. He lived off adrenaline and knew he could beat anyone or anything up if he tried. But Regular Adam and Real Adam, who over the weeks have been morphing into one, can't live like that. Hormones and weed make me feel sick. Adrenaline makes me feel sick. These motherfuckers bruising me with the full intention of hurting me makes me feel sick.

I extended my extremities like a starfish regrowing its limbs. I managed to knock all three of them off at once and stood quickly. Thomas got the first blow, straight to the jaw. The Ginger one had hit my dislocated shoulder, knocking it back into place. I swung my leg up as if I had any sort of balance for that, and like expected, he grabbed my ankle and tossed me down. But I grabbed both of his as I twisted, causing my whole thrown weight to cause him to topple. I crawled over him and punched his cheekbones back and forth until he stopped correcting his head. He was unconscious. I didn't have time to think about him and did the low move of biting the Asian kid's wrist. He yelped in pain and glanced over the ginger. Thomas was the only one remaining as he booked it down the corridor, screaming for staff, who were already nearby and watching the ordeal, slowly yet surely circling in.

Déjà vu kicked in.

As I socked his jaw and grabbed his shoulders to hit him into the ground, the images of Caleb wailing in pain as I pummeled his head into the bathroom tile flooded back to me. I felt my lungs expanding and contracting in my chest like they're not mine, and Thomas's no longer smug face accented against the sky like an image made me rocket to my senses.

"Never touch me. Or Caleb." I climbed off of him, and he rocketed forward, clasping his jaw. I sped past security, who were humiliatingly slow, and rushed off school property before I could be questioned further.