The kitchen
sink hummed with water and dishes clattered as they were put onto the rack to
dry. A girlish shriek and warm laughter filled the air as they splashed water
at each other. Her long, sleek, black hair shined as droplets dripped from the
ends, and her delicate hand brushed them away as they fell. The wedding ring on
her finger shined with the promise of more years to come. They had been married
for twenty years. Layla’s blue eyes sparkled with delight and she smiled as she
handed Neil a fresh, clean towel to wipe his dripping hands and face. The towel
was warm, smooth, and silky to the touch and had the faint smell of summer
roses. He lifted the fabric to his face and suddenly he was standing in a ring
of people. And instead of dripping water, he was dripping sweat. It all came
back to him; slowly at first, and then more vivid, like how colors appear on a
Polaroid picture.
The hot summer sun blazed down on the
students with a righteous fury. Reverberating cheers echoed around him as if he
were in stadium and they just won the game. The smell of the rose bushes nearby
wafted on the breeze. Oliver’s powerful frame towered above him. Neil’s
chocolate eyes grazed over Oliver’s muscular arms before looking back on his
own skinny arms with lost hope. Neil hastily arose from the pavement where he
had just landed moments before. He swung again, unsteadily at Oliver. Oliver
merely side stepped and delivered a blow in-between his ribs. Neil’s body bent
with pain and the salty, metallic taste of blood entered his mouth like an
uninvited guest. He wiped the sticky mix of blood and saliva onto the back of
his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Layla cover her mouth with her
hand and her blue eyes became as wide as the ocean. He drew himself up and his
chocolate eyes locked with Oliver’s emerald ones. Neil thought it was now or
never. He lunged for Oliver. They grappled and Oliver pinned Neil to the
ground.
Neil thought this was all Oliver’s
fault to begin with. He started it by bothering Layla and not letting her go
even when she said ‘stop’. Now, he was fighting the most obnoxious and
unfortunately strongest guy at school, to defend the girl he liked. Blood
thudded in his ears and his pulse quickened like an animal caught in a trap.
Neil couldn’t believe that he had gotten into a fight with Oliver. Oliver got
into fights frequently at school because he liked to show he was the alpha
male, and his victims were usually smaller than he was. Neil used to watch the
fights and feel sorry for the poor kids who got in Oliver’s way. Except this
time, he was that kid and no one, save for Layla, felt sorry for him. He was
just today’s victim, and it was no more unusual to the students than the lunch
special.
His chest heaved and beads of sweat
slid down the sides of his face like absent tears. Neil’s foot collided with
Oliver’s shin and Oliver quickly stood up to avoid the blows. He pointed his
elbow at Neil like it was a gun, and grinned wickedly. Neil knew what would
come next. He’d watched enough fights to know that this was Oliver’s signature
move. Oliver jumped and tried to body slam into the skinny boy on the ground.
He rolled away at the last second, and fear wrapped around Oliver like a boa
constrictor as he realized what was going to happen. A sickening crack filled
the air as Oliver landed on the ground. The cheering abruptly stopped as if
someone had pressed the mute button. A howl broke the silence like shattered
glass and everyone realized what had happened: Oliver had broken his arm. Neil
vaguely heard someone call an ambulance before he sat down on the scorching
pavement. His ears were ringing and he tried to slow his beating heart. People
patted him on the back with congratulations and Neil’s eyes flickered towards
Oliver who gave him a sharp glare. Neil smiled triumphantly as Oliver was taken
to the hospital. The crowd started to disperse now that the action was over,
and Layla ran towards Neil, who sat down on the pavement exhausted and dripping
sweat.
She handed him a towel and smiled.
Neil pressed the towel gratefully to his face. The towel was warm from sitting
in the sun, and smooth and silky to the touch and had the faint smell of summer
roses. Neil returned the smile and handed the towel back to Layla. He looked at
his wife with love, and thought nothing could be better than doing dishes with
her.