Mashed potato boy
We’re three seconds through the school gate and we’re surrounded by three of the biggest kids I’ve ever seen in my life. The first picks up Timmy and hangs him off the gate by his hood. Timmy screams, and I swing my fists like an out-of-control propeller, but it’s no good. They’re just too big.
They throw me against the fence and glue my arms to my sides. The biggest guy puts his hands on his knees and squishes his nose into mine. He spits out the side of his mouth and half of it goes flying into my face.
“You must be the new kids,” he growls.
“Well done, genius,” I mutter.
“What did you say? Sounds like you want me to bury him”—he jerks a thumb in Timmy’s direction—" in the garden?”
I shake my head. “Here’s the deal. Leave him alone and you can do anything you want to me.”
Big guy steps back, a curious look on his face. “Fuzz man? Hammer? What do you think?” I’m tempted to ask him why bullies have such dumb names, but if I play this right, I might even get Timmy off the fence and escape with half a face.
Big guy shrugs. “You serious, boy?”
I nod. My knees are shaky, but I look him straight in the eye. “Yup, get him off the fence, leave him alone and I’m all yours.”
His eyes get this wicked gleam, and I know I’m in trouble. He clicks his fingers, points at Timmy. Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Dumber lift him down and set him on the ground. Hammer keeps hold of his shirt, and the snot rivers become Niagara Falls. I give Timmy a wink. “Just a game, mate. It’ll be alright. Close your eyes for me.”
He walks around me slowly, taking his time. “Just get it over with. Punch me as hard as you can. I won’t move. Won’t even close my eyes.”
Hammer and Fuzz Man rub their hands together and laugh stupid tough-guy laughs.
“Do it, Flicker!”
“Punch him real good.”
“Right in the face.”
“Na, man, right in the balls!”
Flicker grins an evil grin and rubs his hands together. “Didn’t think anyone was this stupid.”
Not stupid, terrified, I think to myself. All I want to do is grab Timmy and run out the school gate, but they’d catch me before I took the first step.
“Free shot,” I say. “Won’t even move.”
Flicker rolls up his sleeves. He looks around for teachers—there are none. He pulls back his enormous fist. It hovers in midair for a couple of seconds and then flies at my face!
It stops half-a-hair from my nose, and he grins down at my sweat-covered face. “Nah,” he says. “We’ll save it. Get ya when you least expect it.”