Mellie stumbled backwards, the heels of her shoes scraping against the sidewalk as she frantically attempted to pull the boy away from the mountain of a man. No matter how much she cried out and tugged on his shirt, he didn’t seem to pay any attention to her words. His error meant that she was soon wincing upon hearing a sickening crunch as the man landed a punch on the boy’s jaw. Mellie let go of him at once, a startled and undignified squeak sounding from her as she immediately clapped her hands over her mouth.
“Oh my days, oh my days,” she muttered to herself, the words muffled by her sweaty palms. She watched with wide and terrified eyes as the boy toppled backwards, arms flailing, only to be hauled forward again by the man yanking him forward by the shirt, having a lot more success than Mellie had when she tried it.
“Let him go!” she insisted. Her words were no longer feeble, even if her voice did shake. Still, they had no effect on the drunkard who had picked the kid up with a strength she was surprised he managed to possess given how much he’d presumably had to drink.
“No!” she yelled when the teenage boy was catapulted across the empty street, his body colliding with the ground and getting ripped up in the process. She could already see his elbows blooming with fresh blood and guilt rose up in her like a tidal wave. This was her fault. She knew she couldn’t rightfully blame herself for the man accosting her, even when she’d told him to leave her alone, but if she hadn’t been so stubborn to disobey Che’s curfew, then maybe the boy wouldn’t have been hurt. He could have potentially landed himself in bother elsewhere, but with a lesser man – and not for the sake of her safety.
Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the boy lie on the ground, looking slumped and defeated. Oh my days, was he even moving?
She heard a grunt and relief coursed through her as the boy picked himself up. She didn’t miss the frustrated look he gave her and, despite everything, she frowned indignantly. She could hardly leave when he was getting beat up in the manner he was, and she had hardly asked him to come to her rescue. Of course, she wouldn’t have managed to escape without him, but that didn’t mean they were in safer waters yet. As long as the hulking man towering above them both stood there, she couldn’t leave the boy to fend for himself – although, if guilt hadn’t factored into her decision, it looked like the most appealing choice.
As soon as she picked up on the boy’s words, she cast him an appalled look, her mouth falling open. Was he really goading him? She had thought that the teenager was stupidly brave before, but now she wondered if he was just plain stupid.
“Are you serious?” she whispered, shaking her head. She had no idea what the desired effect of his words were, but what they earned was a frown from the drunk man who immediately began advancing towards the boy.
She knew she couldn’t fight back. She was far too small and unco-ordinated for that. However, fear had a funny way of turning into bravery when the right amount of adrenaline was muddled into the mix and as soon as she saw the man’s foot dangle off the kerb, she ran forward and kicked his shin with all her might. A gasp left her as her toes protested from inside her polished shoes, but it was nothing compared to the yowl the man let out as he slipped, losing his footing and crashing to the ground.
Mellie gaped for a minute then hurriedly searched for the boy.
“Run!” she commanded him, hastily moving backwards, unable to break into a run until she was sure that he would join her.
Darren didn't think that he was necessarily a stupid person. He done well at school, had good grades, and his gym teacher always applauded his efforts. He wasn't on any sports teams – mostly because he preferred the feeling of leaping through the air while perfecting his pirouettes to kicking a ball around a field – but he still excelled in pretty much every class, and he liked to keep himself active all the same. There were kids in his class like Finn Jordan who were awesome under water, or even that Ronnie kid who he thought might be captain of the school's soccer team – he wasn't sure though, given he'd never been to any of their matches – and there was Lucy, too, who he'd seen around the skate park, as well as at Dance Alley, though he'd never admit it.
In short, he'd come to realise that there were a lot of kids in his class who probably held more athleticism in their pinky than he did in his entire body, and yet despite that factor he still thought he was skilled enough. While it wasn't news to anybody but himself, he knew he could sure as hell dance. And with Alex and Holly's teasing aside, even they knew he was pretty skilled on a board.
And yet, despite his own personal talents, he still seemed to lack a little by way of brawn. His height never seemed to benefit him in situations such as the one he currently found himself in, and he just couldn't for the life of him fathom why, or how, he always seemed to end up on the receiving end of some douchebag's fist. Still, he supposed he'd just have to see it through and hope for the best. He couldn't stand by and let some creep accost some unsuspecting girl, so if he hate to take a few hits here and there then so be it.
What he hadn't expected, however, was look of total bafflement on the girl's face as she stared at him, which is why he was really beginning to question his own intelligence – and sanity, at that. He really couldn't tell if he was the idiot to have stepped in, or if maybe she was just ungrateful, but he was sort of leaning towards the former. While he didn't think he was much of a bad guy, it wouldn't have been the first time a girl had looked at him as though he were lacking in one or two braincells – Holly and Taylor, to name but a few of the aforementioned girls.
Watching as the man jolted towards him, it finally dawned on Darren that maybe mouthing off hadn't been his best idea. He could already feel himself bruising all over after his harsh landing only moments before, and he could practically hear James fretting over his cuts and scrapes. He really didn't want to take another hit, but if it was between him and the girl then it was a no-brainer.
The punch never came, however, as he stared on with wide eyes and a shit-eating grin as the girl swung her foot forward until it collided with the man's shin, knocking him off the curb and into the road. Letting out a loud, triumphant laugh as the man howled in pain, Darren surged forward to congratulate her, only to find her staring on with a look of horror, urging him to run.
He didn't need telling twice, though, and he staggered forward, his eyes still trained on the drunk on the ground, before trailing after her. Breaking into a sprint to catch up with the girl – who had been smart enough to not wait for him – he found himself internally thanking every godforsaken hour of cross country and track that he'd had to endure, it all paying off now as they made their escape.
When the two of them finally found themselves well out of sight of the man from before, having rounded not one, not two, but three corners onto a street he didn't even recognize, Darren came to a halt, smacking his hands to his knees as he doubled over, panting as he tried to regain his breath.
“That... was.... awesome,” he gasped, breathing out ragged breaths as he shot a glance up at the girl.
He knew he shouldn't really be condoning what had just happened, and he wasn't happy about all that had unfolded, but watching the girl stand up for both herself, and Darren, and knock the guy on his ass had been exhilarating, to say the least.
“I mean, you just totally took that asshole down! That was so rad, man, I feel like I could go another ten rounds with him,” he claimed.
Of course, that was a lie. He ached all over and felt all too willing to let death come and snatch him from the Earth if it meant five minutes of peace, but still.
“Man, that guy was a total sleaze, right? He could've, like, hurt you or something!” he told the girl, shaking his head as he finally regained some semblance of even-paced breathing.
He didn't want any kind of thanks from her, of course. It wasn't like he'd just stepped in to be some sort of Knight in shining armour, but still it seemed dumb to not acknowledge the reason he'd managed to land them both in hot water – or, perhaps, hotter water.
“Are you, like, uh... hurt, or anything? I mean, do you need me to call for help or something? I have a phone, if you need...” he trailed off, biting nervously on his lower lip. That had been a mistake, however, and he hissed in pain as he felt the familiar trickle of blood spill down his chin.
Wincing, he shrugged before holding out a hand, waiting for the girl to shake it.
“I'm Darren, by the way...”
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