The crowd chattered for blood, mine. I thought they were my friends. I thought wrong. My thoughts pushed me forward into his rushing fist. I staggered, dizzy. I couldn’t quit. I rounded a right, praying to connect.
He grabbed my arm in mid-swing and laughed, “Pathetic. You’re wasting my time.” The adolescent giant had me by eight inches and fifty pounds.
It was a magic moment. His laugh dripped of arrogance. The crowd turned. A rare breath of humanity appeared in teenage boys. They started cheering for me, not him.
Stunned, he looked at the crowd, then bolted into the darkness.