Heartache

Three: Alex Langley

Alex clenched her fists, glaring at the teen in front of her.
From what she made out from what Jazz said, he bullied Skye and they needed to go.
Alex got the feeling it was something deeper than just a school bully, but she respected Skye and Jazz's privacy and didn't want to press them for answers.
Instead, she just glared at the teen in front of her, for two main reasons: one, even though they hadn't known each other for very long, Alex considered herself friends with Skye, and Alex was loyal to her friends, and would beat the shit out of anyone who insulted them.
Two, this person misgendered her.
Alex wished they were in Canada; she could have the little bitch locked up for that over there.
But they weren't (unfortunately) so she just had to deal with it.
By high-fiving this jerk.
In the face.
Preferably with a chair.
Or perhaps a knife.
Yeah, a knife sounded good.
She wished she had brought a knife.
A knife would have been useful in this situation.
Instead, she had to resort to punching him.
In the face.
Sure, it wasn't the best option, but it worked.
The idiot stumbled back, holding his eye.
He was probably going to get a black eye, and that made Alex happy.
"Oh, so the pretty boy can fight, huh?" the boy smirked, an evil glint in his eye. "Well then, this'll be interesting."
The boy threw a punch at Alex, but - having years of practice - she caught the flying fist and returned it to sender in the most spectacular way possible.
The fist in question hit its owner in the face.
And said owner fell into a puddle.
And got up, screaming, "My new clothes are wet now! WHY!"
Alex laughed, a bright, mischievous laugh.
The boy threw a punch once again, but this time Alex wasn't expecting it.
The fist hit her directly on her nose.
And only now did she remember that Skye and Jazz were standing motionless off to the side - well, at least, they were.
Now they were showing expressions of horror.
Alex assumed that her nose was now bleeding, but she'd been through worse.
Cependant, she decided she wanted to run away.
But she had to do it in style.
So, she started cussing out the bitches in French, because porquoi pas?
"Va te faire foutre!"
"What the hell is the noise saying?" was the oh-so-eloquent reply she received.
Alex gasped, unnoticed, but she gasped all the same.
Because if there's one thing that Alex hates, it's Donald Tru- being treated as an object.
She was a person, not 'noise' or an 'it'.
So in response she turned on her heels and fled, and after a little while she sensed Skye and Jazz behind her, too.
-----
Skye realised that Alex had no idea where she was going.
So she ran forwards, and gave directions to Jazz's house. Jazz's mother would be there, but it was better than going back to Skye's or to Alex's - less of a gamble.
So they ran off, Jazz trailing slightly, until they reached what was essentially a mansion.
A fricking mansion.
Skye was prepared for this, but Alex didn't know about this situation; naturally, her jaw hit the floor.
"You didn't tell me Jazz HAS A GODS-DAMN MANSION!"
-----
I'm baaaaaaaack!
It's been a little while, but Happy Fourth of July for my American readers, and happy normal day for us Brits!
Bleh, I'm using too many exclamation marks.
Let me know how I can improve in the comments!
If you liked this chapter, consider leaving a vote, and if you want to read more of my work, a follow would be greatly appreciated.
Thanks!
-Crimson.
EDIT: I do know this was posted on the fifth of July. I'm not changing it because I wasn't quite done editing the chapter on the fourth and wanted to at least mention it for my American friends (cough cough friend).