Out of nowhere, Ryan appeared out of the shadows, forcing us to stop in our tracks. He then squared his shoulders and raised his fist before he punched Justin solidly in the side of the face: hard enough to make him release my hand from his grip and stumble to the side, clutching his face. “That’s for going back on your word!” I was too shocked to do anything as Ryan said this. As soon as Justin got his balance vaguely back, Ryan hit him again, just as hard in the side of his face where it was last time. “That’s for not even hearing my side of the story!” Another punch in the face, this time, a little higher than the last 2, before he yelled, “And that’s for turning your back on me for some hypocrite!”
After the third one, Ryan turned and ran. I ran straight for Justin. He waved me away so I ran after Ryan: ignoring Justin’s yelling. Luckily (or unluckily as it may have been), I was, and always hand been, faster than Ryan. That allowed me to catch up and spin him around to a stop in-front of me. “Why did you ask him to break my heart?” I yelled in his face. He didn’t even flinch, he just replied calmly, “I wanted to see you get hurt, simple”.
“Don’t you think you’ve hurt me enough already?”
“No, I don’t. You obviously don’t know me. I’ve always been the sort to make things horrible for the person the other side of the argument: and that’s what I’m gonna do”
That statement just concluded what I was going do to. I turned as if to walk away but, as I heard him scoff triumphantly, I spun and slapped my hand right across his face as hard as I could. I screamed into his face, “Never come near any of us again!” before running away back to Justin, tears threatening to fall once again.
I saw Justin sitting down inside the coffee shop holding a cloth, no doubt filled with ice, to the side of his face. I could already see a purple bruise appearing on his eye and higher cheek where the towel wasn’t currently positioned. I ran inside and knelt down next to him, before trying to move the towel (unsuccessfully I should probably add) to a different bit of his face.
Instead, he reached over and placed the cold towel (which I could now see was filled with ice) on the table before thanking them for looking after him and saying to me, “Come on, Erica, let’s go”
“But … Your face …” I started but he interrupted me. “Erica, my face is fine: it’s just a bruise! Let’s go … what do you wanna do?”
“Let’s get you to mine for the night? I know your dad will kill you if you go home like that” I motioned to the bruises: now becoming dark and very obvious on Justin’s lightly tanned face. He nodded and allowed me to support him to the car. As he tried to get in the driver’s seat, I pulled him around the other side; ignoring his complaining; and forced him to sit in the passenger’s seat instead. I shut the door on his complaints and walked around to the other side of the car before getting in and starting the engine and pulling away from Starbucks.