While school tennis matches didn't get big crowds of football game proportions, this particular crowd was big enough to keep Wybie to the side of the bleachers. The crowd didn't make it any less fun to watch Coraline crush the other guy though.
"Hey Lovat," while he wasn't dating Coraline anymore, Trent was still a douche & still the bane of Wybie's existence.
"Johnson." Wybie responded tersely, with enough malice & force to make an attack dog lay down in submission.
"So, ah…" Trent appreciated the view of Coraline running to the farther end of the court, "I heard you tapped that. I gotta say man, nice job. She wouldn't even let me do anything. Can you believe-" Trent didn't know what happened. One second there was a gloved fist in front of him, the next, pain.
"Jesus Christ, Lovat! What's your problem?!" a second gloved fist to the stomach cut him off. By now, the crowd started sensing that something slightly bad, and more slightly interesting than a tennis match, was happening.
"What the fuck man? Coraline ain't even that special!" With the human equivalent of a roar, Wybie tackled Trent with the intent to mangle his pretty boy face. Within seconds, every other feather-headed bint came flying at Wybie, trying to pry him off. Or perhaps deafen him with their shrill screams.
Although the loudest screaming person was Tim, telling Wybie to "Use the chair! Use the chair!"
Even with all the shrieking girls pulling on him, Wybie continued to wail on Trent's face, knocking loose quite a few teeth, busting his nose, & giving him two shiners that would last for somewhat longer than a month.
"Wybie." One calm voice. One small hand that barely registered through Wybie's leather trench coat. Wybie looked up to see Coraline staring at him with a rather blank look on her face, but he swore there was something akin to pride in her eyes. "I have a match to finish." Wybie stood up, taking great care to step on Trent's shoulder as he walked back to his motorcycle.
"Are you mad at me?" Wybie asked as Coraline got within earshot.
"Not really," she shrugged, then shifted the bag on her shoulder.
"Need me to hold that?" Wybie offered, brushing the shoulder strap as she was standing very close now.
"No, it's okay." Coraline shook her head quickly.
"Oh, alright…" the tall boy mumbled, starting to feel helpless, "Do you want a ride then?"
"Nah, I'm taking the bus," Coraline began to back up towards the small white bus.
"Are- are you sure I didn't make you mad? Cos if I did" Like so many months ago, Coraline fisted his shirt in one hand to bring his lips to her level. And like that same amount of months ago, Wybie's hands automatically went to her hips.
"I'm not mad at you," Coraline's lip brushed against Wybie's as she spoke, "I think it was very sweet that you beat the crap outta him. But the coach wants to talk to all us, so I'm just gunna ride the bus." Wybie watched as Coraline walked to the bus.
"You're a bit sad." Tim arrived from nowhere.
"You're the one who kept tellin' me to 'Use the chair! Use the chair!" Wybie retorted, quite used to Tim's ability to pop out of nowhere.
"I watch wrestling, it's a reflex." Tim defended.
"Now that's sad."
What's worse, writer's block or having your computer wiped clean of all files?
