Troy tried to fire off an uppercut, but Scott veered and threw a right hook into Troy’s left eye, knocking him off balance, sending him backwards. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, and his muscles tight with excitement, Scott rushed his opponent – and threw a right jab.
Troy dodged it. He spun around, wrapped his arms around Scott’s waist, and threw him up against the lockers behind him. Then he moved in, pounding a fist into Scott’s sternum, knocking the wind out of him, before throwing another punch into his left cheek.
Disappointed with himself for not expecting the one-two combination, Scott focused on defending himself. But then he saw Troy’s friends waiting for a chance to enter the fray without accidentally catching an elbow in the eye or a kick in the shins. It meant that, if Scott defeated Troy, he’d face retribution from five guys who would pound him into oblivion. That meant he either faced defeat at Troy’s hands, which would surprise no one, or end up a bloody mess by five of Troy’s closest friends, all of whom would state that Troy had emerged the victor.
Since Scott had become so familiar with bumps, bruises, cuts, and so forth, he doubted these guys would unleash anything close to the damage his father had inflicted on him. And that meant Scott had no intention of letting Troy get the better of him. When his adversary flung a right punch his way, he ducked, letting Troy slam his fist into the locker, which made him howl in pain.
Scott took advantage of that momentary break by throwing a series of punches into Troy’s kidneys, attempting to knock him on his back without another chance to attack. Left and right he went, back and forth, trying to do as much damage as possible, until Troy sunk against the lockers and fell down to his right.
And that’s the moment Scott felt the retaliation he expected: first a punch to the back of the head; then a chop to the neck; and finally a kick in the back, sending him sprawling against the lockers until he, just like Troy moments before, wavered and fell to the ground.
The football players moved in, each of them kicking at his legs, his chest, his stomach, his face. Scott tried to block the blows by raising his hands, but they got knocked away with each punishing wallop, making it difficult to protect every body part, as the group took turns punishing him. Still, he deflected some of the kicks from connecting with his face. But that meant other blows landed against his thighs, his private parts, and his ribs.
“Hey, you!” a man’s voice shouted. “Get away from him.”
Scott had no idea who had called out from down the hall, but it granted him a few seconds of respite. Then the group ran down the hall in the opposite direction, covering their faces to avoid detection.
Scott lay there, breathing heavily again now that the momentary throbbing between his legs subsided, grateful that he could do so without feeling great pain, meaning that he hadn’t suffered broken ribs. Slowly, he got to his feet.
Within seconds, the cafeteria doors burst open. Students rushed into the hallway.
Ashley led the pack. She rushed to his aid, sliding to a stop beside him. “Oh my God! Are you okay? Scott, can you hear me?”
“Yeah, just some scrapes,” he said. “No big deal.”
“You’re crazy. You’ve got a cut lip. A huge bump on your left cheek, and…” She reached up to his face.
“Ahhh,” Scott said, wincing.
“I didn’t even touch you.”
“Well, I bet it would’ve hurt if you did.” He felt both embarrassed that she’d seen him “lose” a fight and glad that she’d come to help him. Just having her beside him dulled some of the pain.
Ashley glanced in every direction. “Who did this?”
“I don’t know,” Scott said, figuring that if he named those who’d hammered him into the ground, they’d return to do even more damage. “Nothing that a few Band-Aids won’t fix.”
“Are you insane?” She placed both hands on his cheeks, looking him over with a frightened expression. “Did Troy do this?”
“No,” he said. After all, Troy’s henchmen did most of the damage. “He didn’t get a chance.”
A momentary smile slid across her face before she looked worried again. “Are you hurt? Do you need to see a doctor?”
“Get some Neosporin, and I’ll be fine.”
“Who are they? We’ll tell the principal. We’ll make them pay.”
“It’s no big deal,” Scott said, knowing what damage he experienced moments ago would pale in comparison to what might happen in the future if he gave up those who hurt him this time around.
“No big deal?” she asked, as if the fate of the world hung upon punishing those who’d harmed him. “No big deal? I can’t believe you’d—”
“Seriously,” Scott said. “It looks worse than it feels.”
“But you can’t let them get away with—”
“They didn’t get away with anything,” Scott said, unable to stop a smile from shining through. Doing so made him flinch in pain. “They know what they did. And they’ll have to live with it.” Grunting, he got to his feet. “And that’s just fine by me.”
After school ended that day, Ashley pleaded with him to go home to get some rest. Although he suffered from plenty of discomfort in some areas (primarily in his forearms, legs, and groin), he still wanted to spend time with her. In the end, he finally took her advice and went home.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
“Good to see you too, Dad.” Scott closed the front door, noticing that his father had downed more booze today than at any point in the past month. Maybe his unemployment check hadn’t come in the mail earlier in the day.
“Did you get in a fight with a truck?” His dad placed an empty beer bottle beside a dozen others on the cocktail table in front of him.
“Just a little misunderstanding at school. No big deal.”
“Got in a fight, huh? Ended up getting your ass kicked.” His father shook his head, irritated. “Haven’t I taught you anything?”
“No. Except that I’m a good punching bag.”
“I did all that so you wouldn’t find yourself… looking like you do right now.”
Perhaps it was the pain that registered across his body, but for the first time, Scott didn’t feel the least bit frightened as his dad hopped out of his recliner and strode up to him.
His father grabbed Scott’s mouth, twisting his neck to the left, yanking it to the right.
Scott tried not to show any measure of anguish, but he couldn’t help but grunt in pain.
His dad shoved him backwards, dismissing him with a grunt of his own. “You’re useless. Can’t even protect yourself. Such a goddamn disgrace.” He turned his back on Scott.
“That’s tough to do when five guys go at you at once.”
His father spun around again. “How did that happen?”
“The captain of the football team came at me, and I dropped him.” He paused, hoping his explanation snaked its way through his father’s alcohol-induced state long enough for him to comprehend that he’d actually won the fight. But his dad just stared at him with a disgusted look. “After that, his buddies came at me.”
“Why’d you take him on in front of his friends? How stupid! Do you have any brains in there?” He stomped up to his son and made a fist, prepared to knock his knuckles on Scott’s head.
But Scott blocked the move, sending his father sideways, due to his inability to stand upright without wavering.
His dad clutched onto an end table to regain his footing. “You son of a bitch! Did you just try to hit me?”
“No, I blocked your—”
“How dare you,” said his father, rushing him, raising a fist.
Scott caught his dad’s fist in his palm and pushed him backwards, throwing his father to the ground.
Dazed, his father seemed to have trouble focusing. After a moment, he yawned, as though the little exertion he’d expended had exhausted him. He blinked, trying to ward off sleep. And within a few seconds his head lulled to the ground. He closed his eyes and t
en seconds later began snoring.
Scott had never seen his father’s behavior shift so quickly. At first he turned his back on his dad, waiting to see if he’d plotted against him with plans to attack him from behind. But his father remained in place.
Scott headed to the bathroom to check out all the bruises he’d acquired from his run-in with Troy and his buddies. Despite the damage his face would no doubt flaunt the next day, he’d recuperated quicker than expected. His waist and back felt a little stiff and his thighs ached. But otherwise, he’d come away seemingly unscathed – at least when it came to the pain factor.
Perhaps all of the abuse his father had doled out over the years had dulled any future abuse he might endure. Regardless, he was astonished – and actually proud of standing up to his father without quaking in place. Perhaps the fight at lunch had given him enough confidence to ward off his father.
But Scott had no idea what he’d do if his father attempted to hit him again.
* * *
Before the end of that day, everyone in school buzzed about how Troy had beaten up Scott because he and Ashley had become “a couple.” Supposed friends smirked at her. Those who’d looked up to her because of her status as a popular girl grinned at her with new insight, as though considering her a moronic loser who threw away such valuable friendships.
None of it made sense to Ashley. It felt like her entire world had flipped upside-down. And she’d brought all of this about by simply sitting with a guy no one knew anything about – if they disregarded all of the fabricated stories that got passed through the rumor-mill.
The next day, she almost cried the moment she saw the gash across Scott’s left eyebrow, the bruise on his right jaw, and the bump on his lower lip. She suspected that he’d endured even worse abuse across the rest of his body.
Scott appreciated her concern, but played the stoic warrior, giving no indication that he’d suffered any pain at all, which of course, made him even more attractive. And based on the way that Troy and his friends ignored Scott at lunch and through the halls the next day, Troy made it clear that he had no intention of mixing it up with Scott again. Apparently, either he felt his friends had evened the score, or he didn’t want to risk getting expelled. Maybe both.
Soon enough, Ashley spent each day at lunch with Scott, not to mention the nights and weekends they didn’t work over the next few weeks, without her parents’ knowledge, of course. They hit the road on his bike and visited the Botanic Garden, Brookfield Zoo, Cantigny and other places that showed Scott had both a sensitive side and a peaceful spirit.
Ashley learned that he found the absurd hearsay regarding his criminal past hilarious. He’d never been arrested, never abused drugs, and never drank for fear of ending up addicted to alcohol like his dad. If anyone had taken the time to get to know him, they would have discovered that he had the heart of a poet.
Equally exciting, he talked about his past and about how he longed for a happy family life, free of animosity. She loved that he didn’t appear ashamed when tears flooded his eyes when he admitted that. Scott didn’t play games when it came to dating. And if he felt one way or another, he acted on it. Above all, she trusted him more than any other person alive. Not only that, but she also believed in him.
Ashley predicted that he’d one day become a tremendous success in the recording industry. While other kids played videogames, Scott spent his nights and weekends playing guitar and writing songs.
Ashley looked forward to the day success shined down on him, and she had no doubt that it would happen. It was just a matter of time. He had too much ambition and too much passion to give up on his dreams. And she looked forward to seeing contentment line his face when that day came.
Over those last few weeks before school ended, Ashley had fallen for him in a big way. Each kiss made her stomach flip. Every time he wrapped his arms around her, she felt safe, without worry, and loved. After high school, she planned to get an MBA, while hopefully acting in whatever jobs she could get, until they were ready for a lifetime together. She’d even entertained an idea that he might join her in LA, but she didn’t want to mention it to him yet, fearing that moving too fast would smother him.
And because her parents thought she’d stopped seeing Scott, Ashley decided to disconnect from them in tiny ways: no longer sharing her thoughts, feelings, and dreams. Their pained expressions revealed how much they suffered once she began shutting them out. But until they at least explained why they thought so poorly of Scott, she found it necessary to keep them at arm’s length.
As her friends ignored and avoided her, Ashley’s relationship with Scott became an all-consuming passion. In hopes that he would trust her the same way that she trusted him, she shared her deepest secrets and desires with him. But no matter how much she prodded, Scott wouldn’t disclose much about his father. And he wouldn’t let her visit his home, which led her to believe that his strained relationship with his dad had something to do with it.
Ashley had spent time the last few weekends around town listening to Scott doodling with his acoustic guitar in the gazebo at the center of town, snatching lyrics and melodies out of thin air, only to add them to his notebook as countless songs took shape. As much as she wanted to read what he’d written in that notebook, she didn’t want to betray his confidence because like her Scott found it difficult to trust others. So she didn’t press him. But she hoped that one day he would confide in her.
When prom neared, Scott was about to ask her to go with him, but Ashley cut him off before he got the chance to do so. Although she was friendly with everyone at school, now that she’d lost all of her “friends” after meeting Scott, she didn’t really hang out with anyone except him.
She felt liberated by the lack of responsibilities, not because she didn’t want friends, but because she knew that she’d have to start over at the end of the summer when she traveled to LA for college.
Given all this, if she went to prom, Ashley wouldn’t have had a group to go with. The same went for Scott. They wouldn’t get all dressed up, pile into a limousine, and have a fun night on the town (which meant Chicago, since Bedford Falls had very few exciting late-night events to attend), followed by an intimate night in a hotel room. Therefore, Scott was going to take her to her first rock concert, after which they’d go to a midnight showing of the latest horror flick to hit theaters.
That night, the doorbell rang and Ashley ran down to the door, expecting to see Scott standing there, holding two Foo Fighters tickets at eye level. Instead, she opened the door and saw him wearing a tuxedo with a red gown slung across his left forearm, while holding out a white rose.
“My lady, my I have the pleasure of escorting you to our Senior Prom?”
Ashley stood there in shock. “What are you doing here? Are you insane? My parents…” She glanced behind her, glad that her mom or dad hadn’t heard the doorbell. Nevertheless, the idea of going to prom intrigued her, even if she hadn’t done her hair or make-up. She expected to go crazy at a rock concert, not – attend her school’s prom at the last moment. Ashley battled against irritation and annoyance to ward off Scott’s sweet gesture.
“Hmm,” she said, feeling unsure.
“Not really the answer I was looking for,” Scott said, slanting his head to the side with uncertainty. “But all is forgiven if you change into this gown.” He unraveled the beautiful gown and held it out toward her.
“What’s this?” a voice asked from behind Ashley.
She turned around to find her father’s face crinkled in disapproval. “Dad, it’s—”
“Scott Mettle, sir. Nice to see you again.”
“I wish I could say the same,” her father said. “What’s this all about? That dress isn’t for prom, is it? Because my daughter won’t be going with you. I thought I made that clear about a month ago.”
“You did, sir.”
“So why are you here?” He glared at Scott with a cocked eyebrow, daring the young man to respond.
&n
bsp; “Because I’m in love with your daughter, that’s why.” A determined expression came over Scott’s face. “And when people our age love each other, they go to prom.” He turned a kind eye on the object of his affection. “Will you do me the honor?”
At hearing the word “love,” Ashley’s pulse throttled, and she couldn’t hide the smile that surfaced.
“She’ll do no such thing,” said her father, sidling beside Ashley and butting her hip, all but pushing her away from the door, so he could take her place. “My daughter will not go with you to prom. She won’t go with you to the movies. She won’t go with you… anywhere.” He stayed silent for a moment. “Obviously, I didn’t make myself clear enough last time, so here it is again: you two will not see each other. Ever.”
“If I’ve disrespected you, I’m—”
“It has nothing to do with you,” said her dad. “It has to do with where you come from.”
“Just because I’m from Vista Heights doesn’t mean—”
“I don’t care what town you’re from. I’m talking about your father.”
Scott’s face fell. He didn’t even try to defend his old man. It would be useless to stand up for someone who’d never stood up for him.
“As they say, ‘like father, like son.’”
Uncertain how to respond, Scott simply listened, waiting for a clearer explanation.
“Your father is an alcoholic.”
“He’s also the world’s worst father. And all my life, I’ve been scared of turning out just like him. But you know what keeps me going? That fear. Because the day I stop being afraid of ending up like him is when that’ll probably happen.”
Ashley’s heart quickened. She got the idea that, no matter what her dad had to say, it would change Scott in one way or another. And as much as she didn’t want that to happen, her curiosity had gotten the best of her.
Ashley stepped beside her father, exchanging glances between both men. While her dad looked melancholy, Scott remained anxious. “Maybe we should—”
One More Chance (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 3) Page 8
