the bet → brad simpson | ✓

7

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣: 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙖𝙜𝙨
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"There's a fight after school, fancy joining me?" Blake says as he picks at his fingernails. We're currently sitting through sixth period maths, and wanting to stab pencil in our eyes is an understatement.

"People actually organise fights?" I laugh: how silly. It's like trying to organise sex—it shouldn't be planned out, it should be a natural occurrence.

"I don't know why, but yes," Blake admits. "There's just been word of it. Apparently some guy keyed someone other dude's car."

"Why fight over it when you could just talk about it like adults?" I shake my head and look down at my lap. "But sure, I'll join you, because why the hell not. Less time with Brad."

"Great! My friends bought some popcorn for it, too," Blake smiles enthusiastically as I roll my eyes. "I'm kidding."

"The thing is, I don't think you are," I laugh and he nudges me playfully. "Right, we should do some actual work."

After half an hour of 'work', the bell goes and Blake practically runs to wherever this stupid fight is, me finding my own way there since he had left me to get 'a good spot'.

As I walk out of class alone, my phone buzzes and I see I have a text from Blake.

Where are you?

Feeling too lazy to reply, I put my phone in my pocket and tug my jacket over my shoulders as I step outside.

"You're here!" Blake says and tugs me over to where a large circle had already formed.

Sadly, my height meant I couldn't see any of it, as I constantly went on to my tiptoes and attempted to see the action. People were jeering them on, and eventually I just push past everyone to see Brad fighting someone from the year above.

Brad had a car and it got keyed? No wonder he was in a terrible mood.

My first instinct to see him fighting is to stand in between the pair, but I know that's a terrible idea. However, I do it anyway, stepping forward in front of Brad and raising my hands up in the air as he's about to throw another punch.

"Get out the way, Tamsin," he growls out, his eyes glaring into mine as his hand slowly drops from above my head. At least I knew he wasn't going to punch me.

"No, fighting isn't the answer," I shake my head and the guy from the year above stands upright. "So, please stop."

"Why the fuck should I listen to you?" He snaps and I roll my eyes.

"Because if you get caught fighting on the school grounds, you'll get suspended," I say. "And if you beat this. . . guy to a bloody pulp, then they can press charges against you, even if they keyed your car or whatever."

"What?" Brad says, confused. "I don't have a car to get keyed." I blink and then I realise what he means. Oh shit. Brad keyed his car.