Disclaimer: Bully isn't mine. If I owned it, I would be too busy doing a little victory dance to write this.
Chapter 5
Bucky managed to force my eyelids back open as his friends' voices bounced around him, too animate to be coherent. Immediately, his body reassured me that Sunday night wasn't some awful nightmare, each nerve dulled and aching as though they'd been cauterised away. The tiny room looked even smaller while it was so cramped; a six inch high pile of notes sat on the bedside table beside three untouched boxes of chocolates, along with cards, letters from his grandmother and a mobile phone with the note "Call us when you wake up".Seven grinning faces lit up the room like blazing stars in a charcoal sky, each one a beacon of fire flickering in the boy's blurred sight. Questions darted at him like bullets from a shotgun, shaking his cochleas like rattles with their insistence.
"How are you feeling?"
"Is your arm ok?"
"Shall I sign your cast?"
"Do you want a drink?"
"Guys, Beatrice, I'm fine. Who brought all the stuff, by the way?" I asked, a warm glow in his chest at the realisation that my friends cared so much- even Ted couldn't hope for that kind of attention.
"We took turns. Bucky?" Beatrice ventured softly, soothing as a mother."Do you remember who did this to you?"
In a moment, the attack flashed before him like a sick film; the outstreched hand, the bottle, the blue shirts, the hard, intoxicated eyes.
"Yes," The admission came out choked, confused and throttled. Why did it matter? Nerds were untouchables, barely worth ignoring, so who would believe them? Who would care?
"Do you know who hurt you?" The tranquil tone didn't conceal the blazing fury radiating through the room. For a miniscule moment, the injured boy felt a hint of sympathy for his attackers- hell hath no fury like a pissed off nerd, and this single room contained at least seven.
"Beatrice... what are you going to do?" What could she do? Slender, sweet, slightly spotty teenage girls hardly struck fury into the hearts of thousands.
"Tell Crabblesnitch, or their parents, or pretty much anyone who'll listen to me for two minutes." Crap. Time to prepare for another battering.
"But they'll beat me again- probably you guys too."
"Then we'll get even some other way,"
"How?"
"I don't know," his friend admitted gravely. "But I'll think of something. Please, Bucky. Think what they've done to you,"
After about an hour of coaxing, cajoling and outright pleading, the names spewed out, hard as flint in the cold truth's light; Spencer, Taylor and Montrose. Three boxers. Beatrice felt a scream in the back of her throat. So much for fighting fair! Trying to put her murderous thoughts on hold, she wrapped her arms gently around Bucky's shoulder, careful not to touch his ribs or arm. She thought about everything he'd told her- about the papers, the punches. The paper wasn't even a difficult one- fairly simply, really, just a little explanation of molecular bonding. To brutalise her friend for that!
"Thanks , Bucky - they're going to pay for this"