2.6 Backpfeifengesicht

by Matt P.

Siobhan’s hand hurt a little bit, but it was totally worth it. Letter jacket went down hard, falling to the ground in shock and pain as his hand went quickly up to his nose. “I think you broke my nose, you bitch!”

“I did not, in fact, break your nose.” Siobhan responded calmly, as she turned around to the inevitable group of advancing douchebros coming to defend one of the herd.

“Won’t look as good when we break yours.” One of them growled, taking a step forward until Siobhan held up one black nailed finger. They paused, looking at her in consideration.

“You’re not going to touch me, and I’ll tell you why.” She said before they could challenge the assertion, keeping her hands on the reins of the conversation. “Right now, we can all walk away and chuckles here walked into a door. We fight and a couple of you are going to get hurt too, and teachers will have to get involved.” Siobhan gave a small, almost feline smile. “And everyone will know which ones of you got your asses kicked by a girl. Hell…I’ll call the newspaper.”

The assorted jocks paused to consider this, glaring at her. Siobhan shrugged, looking unconcerned as she looked down at her nails, hiding the shaking of adrenalin and fear in the motion. “You’ll win cause there are six of you, but some of you are going to have to explain how a girl who barely makes five foot two broke noses and arms.” She gave a little bit of a shrug as if it didn’t care either way. It was just another thing to do, like eating lunch or ignoring Algebra; or at least that is what she was desperately trying to project.

It was the calculus of pride, and after a few moments they finished their sums. They grabbed their friend and walked away, glaring at Siobhan. One of them even made the “I’m watching you” motion by pointing at his eyes and then at her, bless his thuggish heart.

When the crowd had dispersed and Siobhan was alone with Antigone she slumped back against the lockers, working the shakes out of her arms. Antigone had tears standing in her eyes, but she reached out to squeeze her sister’s hand.

“I hate new days.” Annie said after a moment.

“Yeah, me too.” Siobhan agreed. “Well, let’s go make more good impressions, just like dad says.”

They both turned back to the main entryway, where a large group of girls was waiting for them with arms folded. They stood with deep expressions of consideration on their faces, as if weighing and measuring what they saw.

“Balls.” Siobhan swore.