The Fight
by The Scholar
"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!
The words rang around the playground in deafening unison.
"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"
A small crowd had gathered, forming a circle around the action and more people were running towards the sound of voices all crying out.
"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"
It was break time and it wasn't long before the attention of that day's playground supervisors, Mr Benson, our PE teacher and Mr Gregg, our geography teacher, was alerted and they hastened their way towards the ever-growing circle of chanting children and began pushing their way through the crowd until they reached the cause of the activity.
I watched from a distance - I was never one to get involved in fighting. Barbaric bullies, usually picking on some kid who was smaller than they were and just to show-off to their mates, act tough and look cool. It was anything but.
As the crowd was dispersed, the two boys who had been fighting were clearly visible. One was Melvyn Patterson, the supposedly toughest kid in school. The other was Simon Taylor, the cutest guy in school and my best friend. My jaw dropped as I stared at him.
"You missed a good fight, Carter."
The voice brought me back to reality.
"What?"
"I said you missed a good fight.
"I did?"
"Yeah. It isn't every day that Melvyn Patterson gets floored."
"Floored?"
"Yeah, you should have seen Taylor, he swung at him like his life depended on it, knocked Patterson to the ground, probably broke his nose."
"Broke his nose?"
"You, okay, Carter, you keep repeating everything I say."
"Okay? Yeah, I'm fine, I just can't believe that Simon was involved in that fight."
"I know, neither could I, but you should have seen him, he was awesome, a hero, you should have seen him."
Simon. My best friend, Simon, was awesome. Kevin Bradshaw had just said so. Awesome. That was the word that Kevin Bradshaw had used. Hero. That's how Kevin Bradshaw had described Simon. My best friend, Simon - a hero. An awesome hero and all because he floored Melvyn Patterson. Swung at him like his life depended on it. It probably had.
I watched as Simon was led into school by Mr Gregg and Melvyn by Mr Benson. I saw Simon wink at me as he passed and I saw the blood on his hand. He was hurt. Simon was hurt and he was being taken into school to be punished, most likely, for flooring Melvyn Patterson. They couldn't punish him for that - they couldn't. I wanted to cry out that they couldn't. That he was a hero, an awesome hero - Kevin Bradshaw had said so.
The crowd had long since split into smaller groups, but everyone was still talking about the fight. You could hear them talking about Simon. Simon the hero; Simon who had just floored Melvyn, the biggest bully in the school.
"You should have seen him," said one boy nearby, relating the fight to his friends who had missed it. "Patterson came up behind Taylor and put his hand on his arse and Taylor just swung round and smacked him in the mouth. Patterson fell to the ground and Taylor just smashed his fist into his face. It was amazing. You should have been there. I bet it hurt. Taylor was shaking his hand as if it hurt, probably broke his hand when he broke Patterson's nose. Amazing!"
Broke his hand? Simon's broken his hand? Kevin Bradshaw never said anything about Simon having broken his hand. This was new information. It meant that Simon was not just hurt; he was hurt hurt - really hurt. My best friend was hurt. I felt tears welling up and knew I couldn't release them, but the thought of Simon being hurt made me want to cry.
My own hurt suddenly turned to anger. Why was Melvyn Patterson touching Simon's arse? No one was allowed to touch Simon's arse. Is that really why Simon hit him? Because he touched his arse!
The bell rang - end of break, the school filed back into the building and back to their classrooms to resume lessons. No Simon, though - he wasn't in class, nor was Melvyn Patterson. I tried to concentrate on the lesson as best I could, but the hour dragged and all I could think about was Simon. I had to see him, I just had to speak to him, find out if he was okay, but the hour to the lunch bell dragged and the minutes ticked by so slowly until, eventually, it rang - the bell for lunch rang and I was out of that classroom like a shot. I had to find Simon.
I checked the canteen - he wasn't there.
I checked the locker room - he wasn't there.
I checked the playground - he wasn't there.
His bike - was that gone?
I checked the cycle shed - there he was, standing by his bike. I called out.
"Hi, Paul, where've you been, I've been waiting for you. I'm going into town to get some chips, you coming?"
"Yeah, okay!"
I grabbed my bike and the two of us cycled out of the school and into the town, a five-minute cycle trip and we were at the chippy. We parked our bikes against a wall and joined the small queue of people waiting to be served.
"So what happened at school? The fight? What happened?"
"Slow down - let's get our chips and then I'll tell you."
More waiting.
We were eventually served with our order and we exited the shop back to our bikes and walked with them to a nearby bench, on which we sat, our bikes thrown to the ground as we tucked hungrily into our lunch.
"So?" I asked, again, this time between mouthfuls of hot chips.
Simon was smiling, but he looked drained.
"I didn't start it," he began. "Bloody Patterson came up behind me and started calling me a queer, said I liked looking at boys and did I want to suck his dick. I ignored him, but he kept on. I was waiting for you to come out, but you weren't there. He touched my arse; and I just swung at him, knocked him to the ground and he kicked out at me, so I smashed my fist in his face. God it hurt."
I looked at Simon and noticed he had tears in his eyes, despite being hailed a hero by Kevin Bradhaw, Simon wasn't a fighter, he didn't like trouble and I suspect that he certainly didn't want to be a hero.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'll be okay. Got detention, though - Patterson and me. Bloody hell, that's all I need. Bloody detention with Patterson."
"Could have been worse, you could have been suspended."
"I guess. But, Christ, detention. That means we'll be leaving the school later than everyone else and he's bound to pick a fight again."
"I'll wait for you," I said.
"Will you?"
"Of course I will. He won't pick a fight with two of us, will he?"
I needed reassurance. Patterson was a bully - a big bully, I definitely needed reassurance
"I don't know."
Wrong answer. I needed reassurance.
"No, he won't pick on two of us," I tried again.
"Yeah, you're probably right."
Better. Not totally convincing, but definitely better.
"Hi, Simon - you okay?"
A new voice - a girl's voice - the girl in question stood before Simon.
Hi, Susie. Yeah, I'm okay thanks."
"You hurt your hand?"
"A bit, but it isn't broken."
I looked at his hand - I had forgotten that it might have been broken. It was bandaged up. I had forgotten to ask. Susie Miller hadn't forgotten to ask. Damn!
She stared at him, like she was seeing him for the first time - a sort of respectful look - new respect - respect attained from having floored the school bully. He didn't need new respect from me, he already had all the respect I could give him, he was my best friend and he was already a God in my eyes. A glorious God to be worshipped, but only from afar.
"The school say you're a hero," she said.
"Me, a hero? I don't think so."
"I do," she said and then Susie Miller smiled and leaned forward and kissed Simon full on the lips. "Glad you're okay," she said.
She'd kissed him. God, how I longed to be Susie Miller - dark-haired, beautiful Susie Miller. Susie Miller - I hated Susie Miller. Well no - not true. How could I hate her, I didn't even know her. I disliked Susie Miller intensely. That was what I felt for Susie Miller.
Simon Taylor was a hero - Kevin Bradshaw said so, Susie Miller said so and apparently the whole school said so. Would they all want to kiss him?
"I hope your hand gets better soon," it was Susie Miller again, stroking Simon's bandaged hand.
"It's only bruised. It'll be okay. But thanks, Susie."
"You're welcome. See you in school." She walked away.
She was flirting! Susie Miller was flirting with Simon. She'd stroked his hand. The hand he now raised to his mouth to place a chip into it. The hand Susie Miller had gently stroked. I decided that I did, indeed, hate Susie Miller.
"There were rumours that you'd broken Patterson's nose," I said, trying to act calmly.
"No, it isn't broken, but I did give him a right smack on it."
"They said he had three teeth missing."
"No, he still has them all."
"They said you and Paterson were thrashed with the cane."
"No, we just got a warning about fighting and detention. Look, can we drop it. We have to get back to school, lunch is nearly over and I have a detention tonight."
Simon stood up, threw his chip wrapper into a litterbin and picked up his bike. I followed. We cycled by to school in silence.
The afternoon went slowly and I met up with Simon in the corridor as the end of school bell rang.
"I'll wait for you at the bike shed," I said.
"You don't have to, I'll be okay."
"But, I thought we agreed..."
"Well, okay, but only if you want to. Should only be half an hour."
"Of course I want to," I said and I wanted to kiss him right there, but knew that I couldn't. I wasn't Susie Miller.
"I hope you two boys have patched up your differences," Mrs Scott, about 103 years old, English teacher. I heard her voice as Simon opened the door of the English room to begin his detention, followed in by Melvyn Patterson.
I walked to the bike sheds to wait. Wait. That's all I could do, as the school bully and my best friend suffered their detention. I passed the time thinking about Susie Miller, who had flirted with Simon. Susie Miller who, before today, probably hadn't even known Simon existed. No, that was ridiculous - everybody, or at least every girl, knew Simon existed, how could they not? Blonde hair, blue eyes, impish grin, heck even Michelangelo could not have created anything better. Bloody Susie Miller.
The half hour detention turned into an hour and, at last, I saw Simon and Melvyn walk through the school's main door and into the playground. This was it - the moment where Melvyn made his threats to get back at Simon, or perhaps the moment when he actually got back at Simon. I was ready to go to the aid of my friend the moment anything began to happen and I watched them - ready to make a move.
From where I stood, I couldn't make out what was being said, but both were talking. Melvyn was doing most of it. Threats? Suddenly, I saw Melvyn raise his arm and I was about to charge to Simon's aid when I noticed it went no higher than his waist - it was outstretched. Nothing else happened - no one was thumped. Instead, he was shaking Simon's hand and then walked off. Simon headed in my direction - the direction of the bike sheds.
As he got closer, he looked pale.
"You okay?" I asked. "What was all that about?"
"He said he ought to give me a good thrashing, but as I'd already put up a good fight, he didn't think it was worth it. He shook my hand and said I was an okay bloke and that was it."
"I thought he was going to hit you when he raised his hand, I was all ready to charge."
"Thanks. I thought he was going to hit me as well, in fact, I was terrified that he would because I knew I couldn't strike back - my hand hurts already."
"You look pale, I think we'd better get off home."
"Before we go, I want to say thanks. Thanks for waiting for me and for being ready to help if things turned nasty. I guess you're as brave as me."
"Not really, but you're welcome. You'd have done the same."
"And another thing."
"What?"
"Melvyn's hand on my arse, it was horrible, that's why I hit him."
"I think I'd hit someone if they placed their hand on my arse," I said.
"That kiss Susie gave me, it was horrible, too."
"Really? Now that you looked to be enjoying."
"No, not really. It was Susie Miller kissing me and it was Melvyn's hand on my arse. Neither of them was you."
I couldn't speak.
The reason I couldn't speak was because Simon's mouth suddenly covered mine and his hand was on my arse - he was kissing me. Simon was kissing me. I thought I would die, there and then, on the spot. Simon was kissing me - then he wasn't - he'd stopped.
"Let's go," he said, releasing me.
I still couldn't speak.
"Come on, then," he called as he began cycling away from me. "I've a hand that needs to get some feeling back into it and I know just how to get it."
I followed him out of the school gates as we cycled back to his house.
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