You'll Just Know

Chapter 22

            Walking through the school hallways the next morning, my thoughts were blurred with rage. Images flashed through my mind: Wendy slamming the door of Chad’s black Thunderbird, then coming to the garage to cry about the pain he’d caused her; Chad laughing at my own pain as he drove over the twisted remains of Flash; and Emily sobbing in the darkness of the locker room. “I had trusted you...”

            With each image, the adrenaline in my blood surged higher until a ringing in my ears drove out everything else. I had thought about it all night, and had finally decided what had to be done. I walked through the crowded school hallway with one driving purpose: find Chad Wright.

            It seemed as though the crowd parted to clear my path. People would look up from their conversations, see the expression on my face, and move quickly aside. Perhaps they had heard what had happened last night. Maybe they just recognized the murderous anger in my eyes. Either way, a large group of them started to follow me. They knew there was going to be a fight and they wanted to see it. No one made a move to hold me back.

            I found the group of football players huddled near the gym. Most of them had their backs to me when I approached, and they were laughing loudly among themselves. Ernie Johnson glanced up and saw me first. He saw my expression, then saw the crowd gathered silently behind me. Quietly, he backed away from the group as I neared.

            They must have noticed the sudden silence in the hallway around them, because some of them finally turned around just before I reached them. The blonde, pimply-faced guy from Emily’s lunch table saw me first and an amused smile lit his face as I walked up. “Hey, Chad! Look here! It’s that little---“

            I cut his sentence short by driving my fist into his stomach. His eyes bulged in sudden surprise as he doubled over, gasping, and staggered aside. In the next instant a large space was cleared out in the hallway and Chad and I stood alone, face to face.

            “Well, Jersey Boy.” Chad smirked casually, folding his massive arms in front of him. “Finally come to get your ass whipped?”

            The crowd seemed to push closer, listening anxiously for every word of the exchange. Someone had helped the pimply-faced boy back to his feet, and he stood at the edge of the crowd holding his stomach and trying to catch his breath.

            My brain was buzzing and my body felt like an adrenaline-wound spring. My vision almost clouding with anger, I rushed forward and put all of my strength into a single, crushing swing into Chad’s stomach. I was going to finish this, and I was going to finish it quickly, bringing Chad down in one blow.

            When my blow landed, though, I felt the hard muscles of Chad’s stomach clenched tightly in anticipation. Chad let out a gasp of air and stumbled back slightly, but that was the extent of his reaction. He didn’t double over. He didn’t fall. He still stood before me, silent, towering... and angry.

            The buzzing in my brain faltered in sudden uncertainty and I heard an excited murmur stir through the crowd. I remember catching sight of Adam’s face in the crowd for just an instant, and I saw my own feeling of sudden dread mirrored in his expression. “Oh, sh...”

            Chad was stepping forward again. “Alright, Jersey Boy.” He said, and I noted with little satisfaction that he was trying to catch his breath while he was talking. “You want to trade punches? Fine. My turn!” and with that, the punch that followed was so sudden and so violent that I was actually thrown off my feet and into the crowd. It was a sledgehammer of a blow piling into my abdomen with a crushing, explosive force. The pain was white-hot and numbing, throwing red spots in front of my eyes as I fell backwards into the bystanders, then onto the floor.