The first punch was thrown by Tim Jones. It wasn't actually Greg's fault. He'd chucked the lacrosse ball right into the net, and Tim had missed catching it. He didn't like to loose. First opportunity, he whacked Greg in the mouth with his stick. The taller, younger boy had punched back, fighting against the pain of his jaw and mouth. Blood was trickling down both boy's faces by the time the ref stopped them. He pulled Greg off, holding him back tightly."What the hell?" Coach shouted, taking over the restraint of his team captain.
"He hit me! Just cause he lost" Greg spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Calm down! The ref'll sort it out"
"Bloody moron! Could've broken something, jackass!" Greg yelled at the offending boy, who was sporting a bloody nose.
"Oi!" called a horribly familiar voice. Greg stopped trying to continue the fight immediately. He'd forgotten his Dad was watching. "Stop it this instant"
"Sorry Dad, I was just-"
"Don't try making excuses with me, boy"
"John, he was only-" the coach tried to defend him
"I'm taking him home now, Pete. You'll have to keep playing without him. Not that that will be too hard"
"Dad, I-"
"Shut up. Come on, we're going home" John took his son by the upper arm, gripping much harder than necessary and dragged him across the field. The stands were quiet, watching their favourite player removed from their game. "See, they're all looking at you. They all know what a worthless piece of shit you really are" John said quietly, so only Greg could hear.
"I'm sorry, Dad" Greg hung his head slightly, humiliated.
"You will be tonight" a rush of cold dread spread through Greg's body. This was only the beginning.
