The Numbers on Her Wrist

31

"You okay?" I ask as I run my fingers down Samuel's cheek, the tears dried and his eyes blinking as they fight away the sleep that tries to consume him. He breathes shakily, giving me a half smile as he meets my gaze, "I think I want to hit something." I smile back at him, beginning to stand and nod a few times, his warmth falling away from me as I take a step back. "Alright..." I glance at the clock that reads only 2 A.M., and I gesture in the general direction. "We can still make it to the street fight. Just let me change really fast, I don't want to go in these skinny jeans." Sam smirks and follows close, turning to his own bedroom to change into something more suitable for a street fighter.

I grab a pair of shorts that reach just above mid-thigh and a shirt that shows off only the edge of my shoulders, pulling them on quickly and swinging my jacket over my arm. I tie my hair up quickly and walk back into the apartment's living room, pursing my lips as I tug on my black boots and tighten the laces; Samuel is already finished changing and is leaning his shoulder against the door frame. He wears a halter shirt and black sweatpants, his own jacket thrown loosely around his back. I dodge back to the kitchen in order to grab my satchel, checking to ensure I have a few extra dollars stored inside.

"Ready?" He asks as I tuck a strand of red hair behind my ear, the tendril curling around my skin and brushing against my cheek as I nod only once. "Yeah, I think I overheard someone mention that there was one over near the warehouse tonight- the place where we first met."

Sam chuckles and takes my hand, guiding me outside his home and towards the elevator as a few men and women exit, discussing politics or some other nonsense that I need not concern myself with- one of them even bumps into me roughly and does not bother to apologize. I scoff quietly and dodge in the lift with my best friend at my side, his fingers intertwined with mine and keeping me closer than usual. "I think I want to hit something too..." Samuel laughs loudly as the metal doors shut and he presses a button to bring us to the ground floor, and we see the lobby filled with many people of the same social status as they dance and drink; there must be a reception for some event taking place here tonight; we wouldn't have noticed it as we have been in Samuel's apartment since only a couple of hours after noon.

By the time we arrive at the street fight, many of the rougher fights have begun and outside the warehouse, in the shadows, a line of injured men sit nursing themselves or friends. I expect- from the damage and agony I see- that more than a couple brawls left some people temporarily crippled or inhibited. I avert my eyes as a man ties off a large cut on his thigh, a scream silenced as he bits on a piece of wood, and hurry with Sam inside the large metal building. There must be a gang here tonight.

Samuel rolls up his jacket sleeves and tugs me around the back of the crowd, his eyes searching for a spot to stand, and I glance over my shoulder as a victorious cheer sounds from the people; a bloodied and broken body is draped across the floor, a scraped and bruised man stands over them. I scrunch my nose in disgust as the winner spits in the general direction of the loser, the two men's friends trying to pull each one away before a larger fight breaks out between the two sides because of the viscous shouts of temper and poor humor. "Come on," I whisper to Sam and pull him away from the back door, allowing the shouting men through as they stumble out with their earnings.

"I'm going next," Samuel declares, gesturing towards the large man that has entered into the human-made ring; he is a good half foot taller than Samuel. "Are you sure? I've seen that man fight before- he isn't easy." My friend smiles and kisses my temple, and before dodging ahead of other street fighters he says carefully, "Oh, calm down, Amelia. I'll be fine; I have adrenaline working with me." I grab his upper arm and pull my lips to his cheek quickly, Samuel mumbling the last word in surprise. As I pull back with a smile, he smirks at me, backing closer and closer to the middle of the circle. "What was that for?"