Standoff

It was a cinematic standoff in the night. A mist of heat and streetlight, abused cars jamming the deserted strip mall parking lot, teenagers clustered around the fringes, an expanse of gleaming pavement separating the two of them.

The victim only offered a shrug of his shoulders. Slicked to perfection, Jesse’s nonchalance glossed the flush blooming across his cheeks and ears.

The bully stalked closer—though Jesse’s blood was charged with terror, he stood his ground. “I don’t think your parents would want anything to do with you if they were given the choice. Don’t you?”

The words pricked his heart, knowing Shawn was right.

Shawn launched into a brutal description of what he thought of Jesse and why, scraping away at the careful persona that he had painted, but the victim interrupted with a laugh as lofty as the night above. Dripping gold and condescension, Jesse’s watches weighed heavy on his wrists and riding boots anchored him to the ground. He felt like a child pinned beneath Shawn’s coal-black gaze.

He’s going to kill me.

Absolute certainty trembled through his insides. This looming shadow would break every bone of his with surgical precision, leave him bleeding on the pavement and waiting for an ambulance…

…the nightmares whirled on as dread seeped into his stomach like ice water. 

“Get on with it, then,” Jesse muttered, forcing himself to be brave. “Go ahead. So tough. I’m so scared.”

The laugh tacked onto the end was genuine, the confession freeing.

The bully did as requested.

***

“Ow!” The girl shrieked in vicarious pain when Shawn struck the first shattering punch to the jaw. She had brought a bag of candy with her as if this were an episode of a particularly engrossing drama.

The silent spectator sighed regretfully at the ground, refusing to watch the demolition. 

“What’s your problem?” Candy asked.

“Barbaric.” She shook her head.

“Oh, come on. He literally asked for it. I just hope he gets taught some manners.”

A chorus of agreement met Candy’s statement.

She risked a glance and discovered the wreckage of a boy’s body on the ground. The bully hauled Jesse to his feet as if his victim were a wounded dog and held him upright, trying to force him to fight back, but every ounce of his willpower had bled across the pavement.

Her heart flinched for this unfortunate soul. But a five-foot-nothing younger girl entanging herself in that scuffle would result in no aid for the boy. The only thing she could think of was to send prayers.

“You should do something,” she whispered to six feet of wiry muscle clad in a sports jersey beside her, her friend who frequented the school’s boxing rings.

The boxer grimaced. “No, thanks.”

“No thanks? That kid could be dying.”

“Yeah…exactly,” he drawled. “Look, kid, I don’t feel like getting my face beat in tonight. Easy for you to sit up on your high horse and direct other people into battle.” He shook his head, Adam’s apple nervously bobbing as he watched the infinite cruelty and had to look away from Jesse’s head snapping back rhythmically.

Candy murmured, no longer entertained, “I think he’s going to kill him.”

***

The vigilante grabbed the bully’s wrist from behind. The force jerked him forward, high tops skidding across the ground.

Shawn released his hold on Jesse, who slumped to the ground instantly, and whirled to face him. His eyes were white-hot with animalistic fury and fear shot through his veins.

Bai grabbed the front of his shirt. He was not taller nor stronger nor faster than Shawn but the authority he had given himself seemed unquestionable.

“Stop. Fighting.” His voice rang across the parking lot.

The bully wrested out of his grip and swung at the vigilante—a cry of delight and horror erupted from the onlookers—but Bai ducked and shoved him quickly, he tripped backwards over the body of his victim.

“I mean it!” Desperation frayed the Bai’s words, he couldn’t let either victim suffer any more.

Shawn seemed to admire his red-slicked hands for a moment, then sprang to his feet, marching past the vigilante and bystanders and cars, leaving them all behind. 

The fight was over.

The tears came soon. The sight of Shawn’s agony only infuriated Bai further as he tripped after him.

“Hey, Shawn. Come back here.”

Instead he dove into Bai’s car and rested his forehead against the dash, shoulders trembling mutely.

“What were you thinking?!”  The vigilante raged for what seemed like hours, trying to coerce some understanding from him. But Bai discovered whatever pity Shawn might have felt for Jesse had been slowly carved away until a deep, hollow void remained, one he filled with blood yet still remained empty.

The bully slowly sloughed off the disguise and tilted the rearview mirror to see himself, finding someone whom he no longer recognized. “I don’t know…I don’t know why…”

“Pull it together,” Bai said, disgusted.

After a shuddering breath, the victim said to his reflection, “Jesse’s been making me miserable. For months I’ve taken it and I’ve taken it and I don’t know why he decided to hate me but I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

He was trying to justify this, to reassure the boy in the mirror.

“So you thought that was the answer?” He shouted so loud his voice cracked and the victim flinched. 

“No…I don’t know what I thought.” Shawn stared questioningly into his own eyes.

“You weren’t thinking!”

“Stop yelling at me. I’ll be getting plenty of that.”

After cooling his anger, Bai unearthed a deep pity for this boy.

“I know how badly Jesse’s been hurting you,” he said softly, reaching across the seat to take his hands and show him the ruins of his own knuckles. “But this is not the way. Challenging him to fight like that doesn’t fix anything.”

“I’m going to have to transfer schools.” Shawn spoke still to his reflection, as if transferring to escape himself rather than Jesse.

Bai smacked the side of his face to grab his attention. “Running isn’t the answer either.”

“What, then?” His voice shattered, eyes despairing.

Bai rolled his eyes at his friend’s melodrama. “Wipe the snot off your face, for starters. Quit your crying.”

After another moment, the victim seemed to have controlled himself. 

“Good. So…just don’t do that again. Ever.” He started the car, noticing a hysteria of red and blue flashes. Whether it was an ambulance or a police car he did not know.

“I won’t. And thank you. For rescuing me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Instantly uncomfortable, the vigilante shrugged off his appreciation and floored the car.

“I need to get the—the blood off.” Shawn scrubbed the crimson off his hands onto his jeans.

Bai shook his head ruefully. “That’s not going to come off for a long time.”

“Don’t get metaphorical with me.”

He felt the corner of his mouth twitch. “Alright, then. Don’t worry. We can just go home.”