The next day, as Peter and Maria were walking to the café, Maria buried her head into Peter's shoulder, hiding her embarrassment. "Shit. It's those people again." She muttered into Peter's shoulder.
Peter looked over at them, and a thought formed. There were only two girls and three guys. "They're the ones who made you cry?" He asked her while analyzing the group.
Maria nodded. "Let's just go, Red."
Peter shook his head and walked over to the group of bullies. They immediately started laughing as they noticed him with Maria. He was a petite guy, after all, and next to Maria, he looked like a dwarf. She was six feet, making Peter's already short height of five feet four inches seem even shorter.
"Oh, look! The fly boy's gonna start some shit." The one plump girl said as she noticed Peter. Who could blame them for laughing, though? Peter wasn't a very big guy after all.
Peter's arms were built like twigs but strong like a truck. So, most people had no idea how much strength was hidden behind that small frame of his. Maybe if they did, no one would mess with him, but since Peter was always peaceful, everyone at school figured he was very weak and feeble.
Peter walked up to them while taking a deep breath to prepare himself; confrontation wasn't exactly his strong suit. "Don't you ever talk to her like that again!" Peter turned to the plump one, who was Maria's main bully. "And Maria's so much more than you, you washed-up slut."
Peter walked away with his arm around Maria, her face redder than a tomato, but his face was burning. "I-I can't believe you did that," Maria mumbled, her face flushed red.
Peter looked back at her, his eyes going wide and cheeks burning red as he looked down at his feet in both shock and embarrassment. "Neither can I." He mumbled in a much quieter voice.
Maria chuckled and kissed his cheek before heading into the café and going to work behind the counter. Peter stood outside the door for a moment while he collected himself. His cheeks flushed red as he felt where she had kissed him.
He smiled warmly and began his walk to work at the lumber yard. He didn't get far before two of the bullies returned, shoving him to the ground in an alley a few blocks from the café.
"That was the wrong choice, Fly Boy." The one spat. "Shouldn't have said that about my girl."
Peter stood up, resting a hand against the wall to steady himself after getting the wind knocked out of him. "Maybe don't date a bitch then, Branden." He uttered in annoyance. Peter had a bit of a grudge against these two bullies from the time they ruined his science project on the day of the science fair.
Peter was familiar with the two boys and their reputation at his school. They were constantly getting written up and even expelled for vaping in the bathrooms and fighting with other students.
Branden threw his fist toward Peter, but he dodged just in time, which caused Branden to punch the cement wall instead. Branden reared back in pain, holding his bleeding knuckles as the other bully, Hansen, ran at Peter.
Peter moved to the side fast enough that he was able to stick his foot out and trip Hansen, who had fallen into a pile of discarded boxes beside a dumpster. Branden threw another punch, hitting Peter in the stomach pretty hard.
He fell to his knees, holding his stomach in pain as he tried his best not to hurl whatever he'd last eaten. Hansen looked at him and laughed, "You're weak, Morgan. Just like your old man."
That sentence was like a firecracker in a gas station. It filled Peter with such anger. His father was many things, but weak was not one of them. He was a very strong individual with a lean frame.
Peter clenched his fist, his teeth grinding against each other as he held his anger as much as possible. "Say that again, Hansen. I dare you."
Branden laughed and mocked him for both his dead father and alcoholic mother, "Your old man was weak, just like you. Go back to rehab, Freakshow."
Peter stood quickly and swung his fist at Hansen as hard as possible; the force of his fist against Hansen's jaw sent his head against the brick. He was one hundred percent going to feel that in the morning.
The two bullies backed down. "S-sorry, Pete..." The two uttered nervously before running off, Hansen holding his bleeding jaw while his head ached. They had definitely learned a lesson, but not the easy way.
Peter stood there in silence for a minute before breaking into tears. "I-I'm a monster..."
He stood there, looking at the blood spot where Hansen's jaw hit the wall. "I'm sorry, Hansen. I hope you can forgive me."
Peter stood back up and began walking to the lumber yard again, slightly shaking. As he walked, Peter stared at his hands in horror. Peter had always been much more of a pacifist, but someone had finally pushed him too far. He knew Mr. Marsh was going to be worried, and sure enough, he was.
Mr. Marsh was waiting for him outside the lumber yard, carving a deer from a log. Carving wood had always helped to relax him. When he noticed Peter, Mr. Marsh stabbed the knife into his prosthetic leg, which he often used as a holder for whatever tool he was using at the time. Peter was nearly an hour late, something that only happened when he was hurt.
"What happened this time, Pete?" Mr. Marsh asked, worried that Peter's mother had done something again.
"I had a minor disagreement with a couple kids," Peter said as he grabbed his axe and went off to cut some trees. Mr. Marsh knew better than to pry answers from a kid like Peter. He was a pretty closed-up individual.
ns 15.158.61.55da2
