The Threat

Did you know that blood bounces on ice? It does. It’s because the temperature of your blood and the temperature of the ice are so different that the blood bounces right off the ice.

The thought probably wouldn’t have entered my mind before Jacob Matheson punched David in the nose, and his blood started bouncing all over the ice on the road. I had intended to kick Jacob in the head if he hit David, but I was so fascinated with the blood bouncing across the road that it took me a minute to register that blood meant someone had gotten hit.

“Hey!” I yelled, planting my hands on my hips and glaring at Jacob with almost as much force as David had been. David had some pretty good glares, but I was getting up there.

Jacob sneered at me. He honest-to-God sneered, with his lip lifted up above his canine tooth. It made me want to punch Jacob square in his face, and wipe that smug look off of it, but I’m a little too… uh… small to be punching people. David is a full head taller than I am, and Jacob tops him by a couple inches. It must have been really funny to watch me glaring at Jacob-freaking-Matheson when he was more than a head taller.

“Whatcha gonna do about it?” he asked, in that so annoying tone of voice. He sounds like he’s got something stuck in his throat, or like he never made it past the first grade. That isn’t true, though, because he’s in high school with David and me. Lucky us, right?

“I already told you what I was going to do about it,” I said. “I’m going to kick you in the head. I said I was going to kick you in the head if you punched David, and now you punched him.”

Jacob took a swing at me. I saw it coming a mile away, and ducked. “Just try it!” he said, and I had to roll my eyes. I couldn’t help it. David laid his hand on my shoulder.

“I don’d need your helb,” he said, his hand over his nose. “You don’d hab to do dat.”

I had to haul him down with me when I ducked Jacob’s second swing. “Too late, I already said I was going to,” I said, and dodged away from him. David looked like he wanted to grab me and drag me away from Jacob, but he hung back. He was probably afraid of getting hit in the nose again.

“What, are you afraid?” Jacob asked. He wasn’t sneering anymore. His face was actually turning an unbecoming shade of purple. It probably frustrated him that I kept dodging, but I was waiting for my chance. I only had one shot, probably.

He finally dropped his shoulder and tried to punch me in the stomach instead of punching me in the head. Took him long enough. I spun around and kicked him hard. My heel hit the side of my head, and he went reeling, staggering a good four or five feet.

I grabbed David’s wrist. “Come on!” I said, pulling him after me as I ran. “My house is closer!”

“You’re goink to run away?” he asked, one hand still over his nose.

“Of course I’m going to run away, stupid,” I said. “He’s like, a foot taller than me. He’d kill me. He’s not going to get hit by that shot twice, and I don’t have enough power with any of my other kicks.”

“He’s goink to cobe after us again,” David pointed out.

“Well, yeah, that’s why we’re not going to walk home by ourselves again, are we? Now less talking, more running.” I glanced behind me and saw that Jacob was still shaky; I had kicked him pretty hard. It was probably because he had such a thick skull that he hadn’t passed out.

“Your house!” David said, yanking me to the right and up the walk. I hit the front door hard and leaned against it, panting, while I fished my keys out.

The door opened and we tumbled inside in a heap, and then kicked it shut before Jacob could dive into my house after us. Not that I thought he would; bullies are the worst kinds of cowards. I sat up quickly and locked the door before David draped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me back down. “You were amazink,” he said.

“Piffle,” I said, now feeling a little embarrassed. “Just because I’ve been in Martial Arts for years –”

David cut me off, kind of suddenly, with a kiss. I made a little surprised noise and then pulled away. “Ew, you taste like blood.”

David laughed a little and climbed off the tile to his feet. He peeked through the blinds to make sure Jacob was gone and then left me sitting in my entryway while he practically sauntered into my kitchen. “C’mon, Skye, let’s clean my nose.” His speech started to get back to normal.

I scrambled after him. “Hey, you’re the one who got punched. What are you so smug for?”

“He’s going to have a big bruise on his cheek, and he’s going to have to go to school and tell everyone that he got beat up by a fag.”

I grinned. “Well I couldn’t just sit around and let him beat up on my boyfriend,” I said. I pulled out a dishcloth and wet it, and then began to clean the blood off of his face.

He hauled me into his lap. “That’s you, Skye, limp-wristed champion of queers everywhere.”

I smacked him on the head with the rag. “Stop that and let me work. And I’m only going to beat up people that beat you up, stupid.”

David’s smile got a little goofy, and he looked like he was about to get sappy. I rolled my eyes and wrung the rag out over his head.

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