Hi! I'm sorry this took so long, but I had a couple of problems with my computer, so I couldn't get this typed up. Italics are thoughts as always. There is violence in this chapter and some language, so if you don't like that stuff, you were warned.
Disclaimer: Not my puppet booth, I just like to pull the strings.
Chapter 36 - Hole
Johnny's POV
All eyes were fixed on me as I climbed down the ladder before striding to where Spencer stood waiting for me, grinning more than a man about to be publicly beaten should.
"Looking forward to getting your arse kicked, Vincent?" Arrogant brat.
"You wish, inbred."
"Hey, first cousins is-"
"Save it for the fight, Tad." Derby ordered, glaring at Tad like he would a little kid throwing a tantrum in the streets. "So how are we doing this, pauper?"
"Whoever's left standing wins, trust fund turd." my right hand man replied, making no attempt to mask his hatred as he eyed the preppie warily.
"Whoever's left standing?" Darby checked, an eyebrow raised. For some reason, a smirk slid onto his overly preened face. "Fine. On three?"
"Fine by us." I shouted, glancing at the crowd; a bunch of preps the guys grinning in their certainty about who would win, Christy Martin ready to faint with excitement, two little girls arguing before pulling a few dollars out of their pockets each, and a concerned looking Beatrice mouthing reassurance, her hands wrapped around some weird contraption she had insisted on bringing "just in case".
"One." Tad stepped forward.
"Two." Our fists rose to eye level.
"Three!" The second the word rang out, I smashed my fist into Tad's cheek. He staggered back, giving me the opportunity to land a few more punches, most of which he blocked easily, snarling taunts as we exchanged hits. Cheers for the two of us shrieked through the air; some for me, some for the prep, and Mr Luntz unable to decide which of us he hated more before resolving to alternate between "Get that rich kid!" and "Punch that greaseball!".
After almost twenty minutes, Tad toppled to the floor. Raising my arms, a shot of adrenaline better than fixing a bike, better than winning a race, almost better than Halloween's events oozed through my body. Consequently, I was blind to the world's difficulties- the footsteps behind me were silent until a fist smashed into my back.
I felt the cold floor smack me as I fell forward. Shocked, I turned around to face my attacker. The laughing green eyes I saw staring back at me didn't belong to Spencer, who was now clambering out of the hole like a spider scrambling up the side of a bathtub.
"Taylor, you sneaky little brat!" I shouted, puching a clenched fist to his face.
"Sneaky?" the prep commented in mock surprise, blocking my punches effortlessly. "You agreed "last man standing". There was no agreement who that man had to be."
I swore under my breath. Johnny, you idiot! The preps always pull something! Unfortunately, I had no answer for him. Judging from his smirk as a warm, sticky liquid rn down my face, he didn't want one.
"Now them," Derby's right hand man ordered, a harsh hatred on his features. "Shut up so I can beat you!"
If anyone has any specific characters they'd like to fight each other, there's a poll up on my profile. Thanks for reading.