16. to be or not to be

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Sorry for the mistakes

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Sorry for the mistakes.

S O R E N

"Listen Soren, if yer girl tells yer that it ain't yer fault—it definitely is." Fleck squirted water down the back of my neck before he pushed the edge of the towel into the cut on my eyebrow.

"But she lied." I pointed out, staring directly at Fleck as he cursed.

"Fuck, the bleeding ain't stopping." he pushed the towel harder into my bone, "But kid, it's not like yer a saint either."

The bell rung and stood up from the chair, holding my fist up as my opponent circled around me, dried blood framing his nose and mouth.

"It's her mum! She lied about who she is—" I dodged his punch as my fist collided with his torso, "You just don't do that."

Fleck leant against the ropes and watched as the big black boxer punched me straight in the chest. I fell against the rope as he hit me in the head twice, sending stars into the room of cheering figures.

"Well, she ain't know 'bout yer boxing..." He said as I threw the man to the ground, sitting on his stomach and punching him in the face until one his his teeth flew out of his mouth.

Someone shouted from the crowd as I kicked my dizzy opponent away, causing him to fall to the ground.

Fleck swallowed a mouthful of beer and pulled the blood covered cloth over his shoulder.

"That isn't lying," my voice was hoarse as the
man held me in a suffocating headlock. I elbowed him in the gut over and over again, before his grip loosened, which was when took my chance. Turning over, and I punched him straight under the jaw which sent his head flying backwards, "She never asked, meaning I never lied."

Fleck raised his eyebrow and took a swig from his beer, I scowled, "Don't give me that—"

A fist collided my head and I was out cold.

-

Neena ran her manicured finger gently over the corner of my bruised eye, "This looks really painful, do you want some ice?"

"It's fucking painful because you're touching it." I growled, slamming my locker shut and turning back to Neena, "You're in my way."

She stared at me with bright blue eyes, "You know, I ain't some blonde bitch trying to get laid. The questions I ask are out of real concern, honest!"

"The only real and honest thing about you is the fuck-tales the boys have told about you," I brushed past her, noticing her eyes swell with tears.

"You're a fucking asshole, Soren McKinin!" She screamed, her word echoing the halls, "You're a fucking heartless son-of-a-bitch."

I kept walking as people gasped, most covering their mouths and some even snickering.

"Go fucking kill yourself you dickhead—"

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