After lunch, Bruce left Jane and the rest of the friend group to make a pit stop. Before leaving the boys’ room, he stopped in front of the mirror, then took out his comb and ran it through his dark hair.
As Bruce continued to primp in the mirror, Chandler, Kevin, and two newcomers to the clique Ron Peterson and Bryson Edman quietly entered. Looking in the mirror and seeing them approach him from behind, Bruce paused, giving the approaching boys a suspicious look.
The boys surrounded Bruce, with Chandler leaning on the vanity on his left side and Kevin, his right. Ron and Bryson stood behind him, feet apart, arms folded across their puffed-out chests, and one side of their upper lips raised in contempt. Their eyes bore into Bruce.
A Nasty Encounter
“Howdy, lover boy. So, we hear that you and the little karate queen are quite the item around here now,” Chandler taunted.
Bruce turned around and bravely faced the threatening boys.
“Yeah? And?” Bruce countered.
“Man! You really know how to pick ‘em, don’t you?” Kevin sneered.
“And this is your business, how?” Bruce fired back.
“I wouldn’t get cute if I were you,” Bryson warned.
“Yeah, well, you’re not me. So, why don’t you turds get fucked!” Bruce bit before walking toward the door.
As Chandler started to charge Bruce from behind, the other three boys restrained him.
“Easy, Chandler. Let the pussy go. There’ll be another time,” Ron told him.
Chandler stood there and drilled the back of Bruce’s head with his eyes.
“You little worm! I’d watch my back if I were you!”
Chandler was a senior, eighteen, and six feet four. He was blonde, blue-eyed, large built, and a quarterback on the varsity football team. Ron was a junior. He was dark-haired, dark-eyed, and muscular but puny and short for a guy at about five feet eight. Bryson Edman was also blonde haired and blue eyed, but an inch shorter than Ron and had a dumpy, squatty build. Kevin had medium brown hair, dark eyes, a square jawline, but, like Ron and Bryson, was a peon compared to Chandler.
Taking a Stand
Just as Bruce walked out of the bathroom, two more boys, huge like Chandler, walked into the boys’ room, looking down at Bruce with eyes of derision as they passed, then looked up at Chandler and his three buddies.
“’That slug giving y’all a problem?” Daniel Underwood, one of the pair asked.
Chandler, eyes blazing, shrugged his friends grip off him.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” he growled.
“Let me have a go at him, ya’ll! I know I can take him!” Ethan Byrd boasted.
And all six boys began giving each other fives and slapping each other on the back before glaring at the door.
“We’ll get his ass! I guarantee you! We’ll catch his ass somewhere off school grounds! Then, it’s on!” Chandler vowed.