We’re at the punchbag machine in the doorway of the arcade when this couple walks past, two guys. One of them is stroking the other guy’s arm and they’re looking into each other’s eyes, smiling, happy, minding their own fucking business.
“Look at these two,” Adam says, dropping a slur before spitting on the tarmac.
My stomach drops, my blood turns cold.
He makes a move towards them and I pull him back.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarls.
“Leave them be, man.”
He frowns. “Why are you defending them?”
The couple walks past. I think Adam’s stopped paying attention to them until he shouts the slur at them and makes to move. The couple stiffen but keep walking. Smart. I hope they keep going.
I push Adam against a claw machine, his back thudding against the Perspex, an alarm going off.
He shoves me back, so I shove him again. This time he grips me by the shirt and pulls me in.
Pain sears through my face before a trickle of warm fluid starts dripping from my nose. It takes me a beat to realize he’s just headbutted me.
“Come on man, don’t fight,” Corey says, holding Adam back. Adam’s grinning at me now, jutting his chin.
I shove him, pushing him and Corey back into the machine.
Employees from the arcade are coming over now, telling us they’re calling the cops.
“Let’s fucking go!” Corey starts running, dragging Adam with him, Paddy following close behind.
I’m dazed.Which way should I go?I sure as fuck don’t wanna follow them, but I’m gonna get into trouble if I stay here.
One of the employees approaches me before I can make my mind up.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I wave him off.
“Are you sure? You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine.”
“Do you need anything?”
I think about going home to my ma and Stacie like this. I relax a little once I see he’s not calling the cops—not right this second at least.
“Have you got some tissue or something?”
“Sure, come on in the back and clean up.”
I give him a weary look.
“I’m not gonna call the cops on you, it obviously wasn’t your fault.”
I’m used to people automatically assuming itwasmy fault, but I don’t have much choice but to get cleaned up before I show my face at home.
When I get back to the house, I’ve cleaned the blood off my face and I’m wearing aFun Times Arcadet-shirt. My nose is swollen and sore but it’s not broken. There’s a bruise forming under one eye.
Nate’s SUV is parked up at the end of the driveway. There’s nothing I can do now. For some stupid reason, I think I might be able to pull it off. Thatthey won’t notice I’ve just been headbutted and I’m wearing an arcade t-shirt that’s two sizes too small.
