The first boy made a motion to respond but then caught himself. He smiled, “Found a bird.”
Tori played with the thought of dropping herself onto his neck.
The second boy, Derek, was mildly paying attention, “So nothing exciting then?”
Tori cursed under hear breath. Shifting her wait along the branch she eyed a spot between the two of them. She wasn’t just going to let that Alex kid enjoy his moment at her expense. He was beginning to subtly point up at her nest when Tori stepped silently off her perch.
There was a moment she rehearsed in her mind where she would disperse the force from the drop though the bending of her ankles and knees. She was about to complete the maneuver too, but something solid collided into the back of her knees.
Tori felt her back slam into the ground with an uncredited thud.
Dazed, Tori heard Alex yell then push the second kid away from behind her. Derek wasn’t where she’d placed him before she dropped. Somehow he stepped around behind her during the touchdown and kicked her in the back of her knees.
Feeling the rage bubble up swiftly, Tori pushed herself up. Alex moved to help but she ignored his assistance. Derek looked as dazed as she felt, motionless and still. Tori winced bringing herself to stand upright a foot from him. Derek was barely taller than her, maybe by an inch. His eyes refused to meet hers, hugging the ground.
◊ ◊ ◊
Then she punched him.
Right in the gut.
PISTONS! Derek only managed the single thought. It lanced out of the confusion, anger, and series of apologies his mind was attempting to cook up. The strength of the thought, rivaled only by the physical violation he felt in his gut.
Derek didn’t see her huff and storm off, too busy clutching his gut, sucking in air. His diaphragm felt paralyzed. Alex stepped into his already teary vision, watching the girl, smiling in what probably was odd fascination.
Without looking away Alex spoke, “Sweeping girls off their feet…”
He was shaking with fits as he turned to Derek, “We’ll call that one “The McVale” –no wait! I got it!" He cut a sharp figure as if to allow someone to capture his essence on a canvas.
"I shall call it the The McFail."