breath beside me and the look was back. This time there was no painful look involved. Eli was just soaking in whatever it was he was doing. Pure ecstasy and goodness was all over his face as he watched the boys face off. It made me stiffen with concern and curiosity, but Tate was taking my focus right then.
Then Tate did the thing that matched the face he was wearing. He threw the boy on the mat and with a cry of battle rage began to smash the guys face with his fists, over and over. It seemed he’d hit him at least ten times before someone reached them to stop him. Tate was straining and yelling for them to let him go; he was bloodthirsty. The crowd all stood in silent shock. The boy was bleeding from many places and groaning as he rolled on the mat in obvious pain.
Without thought, I stepped down the bleachers and went to Tate as he struggled with coach. I touched his arm and started to say his name, hoping to calm him.
“Ta-” I said but he reached and punched me hard in the chest with a fist that got free.
I fell back forcefully to the mat on my back and heard a big gasp from the onlookers. I rubbed the spot he’d hit and felt the sting of it. I looked around shocked and realized what had just happened. Tate had just pushed me down in front of the entire school and half the town.
Three
I was stunned as I looked up to him and saw him finally register it too. His whole face changed and he looked so incredibly guilty.
The other coach, Mr. Mackey, came to help me up. He kept his arm around me, for support or courage to pass Tate, I wasn’t sure which, but as we passed him Tate spoke to me in a gut wrenchingly heartbreaking voice.
“Clara, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know it was you. Please, babe, I’d never hurt you. You know that.”
I didn’t say anything, just walked. I didn’t know what to say.
“I’ll call your parents,” coach Mackey said and then blanched. “I mean, the Pastor.”
“No, It’s ok. I just live across the street. I can make it.”
“I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” I heard behind me and saw Eli there, a grim and unhappy look on his face.
“Alright, Mr. Thames. Good of you. Go on then. We’ll take care of Tate, you just get on home.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered and let Eli lead me away, a thousand eyes on me, with his hand on my lower back. Once we reached the parking lot I finally felt the weight of the situation. “Oh my- what just happened?” I whispered hoarsely, my hands on my cheeks.
“What happened was your junkie boyfriend hit you,” he said angrily. “Are you ok?”
I rubbed the spot on my chest and winced as the sting.
“Yeah, I’m ok. Wait- junkie? What do you mean?” I asked hotly and stood with him by the gate to the school entrance.
“I mean he’s using steroids. He’s got classic hot head syndrome.”
“Steroids,” I whispered and shook my head back and forth furiously. “No. No, he wouldn’t.”
“So he’d just hit you for no reason?” When I didn’t answer he leaned over me, placing his hands on the bars above me, towering over me. “Has he done this before, Clara?”
“No, never. He’s always been gentle with me.”
“Has he ever beat a guy like that before?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, Clara, but I think he’s got a problem. State is coming up isn’t it? Wrestling is a really big deal in this town,” he said with inflection.
I stayed silent as I looked out at nothing in the dark. I mentally waded through his behavior lately. He’d been very snappy, even with me, and his dad, the mayor, was on him more than anyone about making his town proud. Oh no, it was true.
“I want you to be wrong,” I confessed softly.
“I want to be too, but I don’t think I am,” he said just as softly.
The moon was shining streaks of white through his
Learning to Kill: Stories