Rogue

Kyle stopped and hunched over a car to catch his breath.
I stopped too, my forehead dewed with sweat, my stomach clenching with nerves.
Loud voices made me look over my shoulder and I flinched, they were quickly catching up, I zapped past Kyle and demanded he follow me.
I dropped my backpack, the added weight making my feet drag, my steps ungraceful. I quickly retrieved my pepper spray and left my books scattered on the parking lot.
I stopped again and took a breath. My throat burned with thirst. I feared I was having premature ventricular constractions right there. I handed Kyle the pepper spray.
"Breathe," Kyle said, frantic, he was right behind me, half running to keep up with my pace, he gripped my elbow. "We can't outrun them."
I did my best to keep my voice optimistic, but the queasy hollow feeling settled in my stomach. "Let's fight them."
He gave me a disparaging look. "Are you crazy?"
I ignored his uncertainty and shrugged as casually as I could manage.
He looked at me with unease and shuddered. "If I resist, then they'll hurt me more."
My stomach contrasted with nauseating spasms. "No, they might be stronger but you can't just let people beat you up. Never."
Childishly, I turned away from him and dropped to my knees, like an infant, crawling around the cars in a desperate attempt to get to my car.
"There you are!" The booming voice of Wyatt shattered the intense quiet and made me spring to my feet. "You wouldn't possibly be hiding from us, would you?"
"We were just looking for my contacts," Kyle lied. He was still down on all fours, staring at the three men in front of us.
"Guess fag boy wants a good lay," a voice said behind Kyle, he nervously got to his feet.
"This has nothing to do with you, princess," Josh said to me. He made a shooing gesture with his hand. "Now go on, hurry off."
"It has nothing to do with them!" I jerked my chin in his friend's direction. "But they're here aren't they? How's that any fair?"
Josh stared me incredulously for a long time and then said, "You're much braver than your friend."
"Okay," I gasped as soon as I could catch my breath around the nauseous spasms. "Kyle is sorry, okay? It was an honest accident."
Wyatt walked slowly towards Kyle, he had his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The sun shone down on him and made his hair almost glisten.
Kyle brushed the sweaty hair back from his face. "Please... we don't want any trouble —" But then Kyle stopped, suddenly, for Wyatt gave him a look so crawling and viperous, so venomous that words caught in his throat and he remained silent.
"You'll have to go through me first," I warned in a voice that was supposed to sound strong and fearless. I wedged myself between Wyatt and Kyle.
"Are you sure you want me to get through you? Wyatt asked, in a voice that left no room for misunderstandings. He meant something totally different than what I had. The raucous laughter filled the parking lot.
I craned my neck, sizing him up, regrettably, I knew I was out of my depth, there were four of them. With one look at Kyle I had to accept he wouldn't be of much help. If any help at all. My survival instincts kicked off. Dammit, I'd have to enlist to at least a few self-defense classes, I couldn't always depend on pepper spray.
Okay, I breath, and pulled my small hands into fists. What had my father told me — 'pretend to be going in for a punch, it's man's instinct to raise his arms to his face to dodge the fist, but then shove your knee hard against his family jewels.'
And that's exactly what I did, the guy who was closest to me went down on his knees, his hands flying protectively over his groin. I launched for the next guy, with my hands this time. When I had a good grip of his groin, I twisted and satisfaction filled me when he screamed for his mother.
"You stupid bitch, you're hurting me."
Twist it good baby girl, my father would say, Twist it until he goes down on his knees to worship you. I hadn't known what dad had meant until that moment. The guy went down on his knees. I could feel him trying to break his bones, to shift, but he couldn't. He physically couldn't with my teeth holding on for dear life on his testicles.
His dark hair got loose from its ponytail, his eyes large with horror. "Get... her off me."
Something like a wrecking ball — hard, disorienting — crashed against my right eye. A fist. I twisted my hands, a knee-jerk response to the blinding pain and squeezed my eyes, reflectively tears rolled down my cheek.
"Don't hit her, you stupid fool," the dark haired boy bellowed to his friends.
"Tell them to let Kyle go," I reasoned through clenched teeth. When I tried to open my eyes, I saw black spots and nausea settled in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't hold on much longer.
The dark haired boy hissed and then suddenly turned to his friends in fury. "Let — the — asshole — go." his voice was pained but it held an undercurrent of authority. I was convinced he was the leader.
And the second I felt Kyle crawl over to my side I let go. Hopefully they knew better now. The two boys who were beating Kyle up helped their friend get to his feet before mouthing, ' this is not over.' to Kyle.
"Nuru, are you all right?" Kyle asked in alarm. He leaned into my face and cringed.
"I'm fine," I lied. "How are you?" I asked instead, in a weary voice, afraid to move, to open my eyes. "You aren't hurt are you?"
"Are you feeling faint?" He asked me.
"Yes, I think I'm going to puke," I muttered, hating myself for feeling so weak.
"Do you think you can stand?"
"I need a minute."
"Okay, take a huge breath and exhale slowly through your mouth, it'll help with the nausea."
"Who punched me?" I asked and then smiled faintly. "He's got to teach me how to throw a good fist like that. You know, my brain shut off for a second there."
Kyle laughed. "You funny."
I smiled dryly and massaged my temples. I felt slightly better. When I opened my eyes this time the spots were gone.
"Can you stand now?" he asked.
"Yes," I whispered.
Kyle lowered himself to my level and put his arm around my waist and pulled my arm over his shoulder.
I leaned heavily against him on the way to my car. My right eye would suddenly let out a tear or two every three seconds and my head spun.
"There," he said, pointing to my backpack and books. "I'll just get these. Lean against this car."
I nodded and the second my weight fell on the car the alarm squealed.
"Let's go," he said. Slinging the backpack over his shoulders.
The pain was a thick haze in my head. I could barely think through it. As my foot touched the ground, the cars suddenly wobbled.
He retrieved my car keys from my Jean pocket and opened the passenger side and helped me sit on the edge of the seat. He ducked his head into the car and moved me over to the center of the seat and pulled my legs inside the car.
"Do you need water? Tynelon? Tell me what to do." He asked desperately, panicked.
"Just let me sit for a minute, please?"