Chapter 2: Enjoying the festivities.

Saturday, July 4th, 2020

Location: Earth, United States of America, Southlake Texas.

I had texted Amber before I had left and she had met me outside. Her hurried messages to get me to come over and help them pack the SUV mostly ignored while I had finished up breakfast.

“Amber!” I shouted as I came into view. Only to be engulfed in a hug as Amber rushed over.

“Izzy!” said Amber as she rushed over and gave me a hug before inspecting the American flag tee shirt I wore, hip hugger cutoff jean shorts, tennis shoes, and last but not least. My trademark orange scarf with the magenta bit floating in its own breeze behind me.

“I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Everyone else canceled at the last minute and dads been a nervous wreck.”

Smiling I nodded along as the conversation continued. Helping them load the SUV. Reflecting once more that in comparison that the blond bomb shell that made up my best friend was five foot four inches tall to my four foot ten. Or rather her 162 centimeters to my 148. Add in that she had a face and body that had boys trailing behind her wherever she went. Her current blouse and skirt in blues and reds. Their outlines clearly showing that she wasn’t wearing a bra when she should. But then Amber had always been a flirt and teasing the boys was one of her favorite past times. A hobby that had gotten to the point that there was a betting pool going on weather Amber would get pregnant before high school graduation.

Not that she fooled around, but rather that she gave the impression that she did. And quite a lot at that. However, given that I had on more than one occasion inflamed the rumors that she was a casual slut to get back at her. Resulting in her parents going so far as to be bribing me to let them know about any boyfriends she might have.

Which turned out to be rather fun as her father, the former marine, paid quite well. Furthermore, the look of terror when he sent the boys going after his daughter running for the hills, made me roll with laughter for days.

Yet as we chatted along while we worked. Talking about the mundane things like relationships, who was going to college, and who did something stupid and got into trouble. I couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong. Like there were storm clouds on the horizon, yet the sky was clear.

Internalizing it all, we chatted away. My gut telling me that it would be a long day.

At the site of her father’s booth several hours later I couldn’t help but regret agreeing to help my best friend. Even though I would do it again. Though at least I didn’t suffer in the ninety-degree temperatures because of my scarf.

The pop-up pavilion with only two walls gave us a bit of shade as we manned the booth. All the while Amber’s dad made the rounds and shook hands with as many people as possible. Thankfully it was small town politics with most questions about small local issues like streets, sidewalks, parks, zoning, other local concerns.

With it being a nonpartisan position at the bottom end of politics, there was no party affiliation. No party affiliation, meant that no big-time media company was out to fan the flames of simple disagreements into outright hatred in their pursuits of views and profits. Meaning most of the people approaching the booth were more than twice my age, board, polite, and usually left after a few minutes. Only a handful of real political enthusiasts had anything to really talk about and those I pawned off onto Amber.

It was her dad’s race after all.

By noon a few hundred people had walked by the booth and after her parents had lunch they came to take over. Freeing us to head out and browse the nearby stalls for something to eat.

“Let’s go find Dougie,” said Amber as soon as we were free. Each of us walking around with a drink in had to stay hydrated as the temperatures crept into the mid-nineties.

“Why?” I asked more than a little annoyed. My pout may have been half theatrics but I was seriously getting annoyed with her talking about my brother. Something was up.

“Because he’s your brother?” said Amber rhetorically.

“Or maybe I just want to look at some hot and sweaty guys advertising they’re gym in the sun?”

“Or maybe,” I said as I glanced over at my friend with a smirk.

“You’re into younger guys?”

“Never!” said Amber, mock hurt written all over her face.

“Just because he’s huge, looks like an underwear model, and has a look about that just gets me all riled up has nothing to do with it.” My friend’s infectious smile across her face as I rolled my eyes.

“What’s your mess with him anyways? Didn’t your parents tell you to check up on him?”

“They did,” I said with a sigh.

“Then what’s the problem? We can just wander on over and ask around?”

“I don’t wanna,” I said mulishly. My face contorting into a childish pout.

“Then WHY?” said Amber as she stressed the last word.

Sighing, I turned away to scan for something good to eat. Or rather something I wanted to eat as I let the silence linger.

“I kind of beat up one of his friends at the gym and now they want me to join.”

~Blah, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha~

The spit take, as Amber spit out her drink before roaring with laughter drew a lot of attention for a moment. Embarrassment spiking through me, but I forced myself to remain calm as Amber roared. Hunched forward she slapped her knee as she fought for breath. Only for each successful breath to be followed up by another wheeze of laughter.

“The Rampage strikes again!”

Her words said while fighting for breath.

“I don’t think it’s that funny.”

“Maybe not to you,” said Amber.

“But in the four years we’ve been best friends you’ve been in a dozen street fights and sent a half dozen boys to the hospital. If your dad wasn’t such a good lawyer, you’d be in jail.”

“They are always dumb enough to always attack first,” I said with a dismissive shrug.

“Besides, that has nothing to do with the conversation on hand.”

“Oh, right, right.”

“We were talking about why you beat up one of Dougie’s friends.”

“Oh, look those corn dogs look tasty!” I said as I deliberately tried to change the subject.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“You don’t even like corn dogs,” said Amber with a laugh. Her face still flushed from all the laughing we had been doing this morning. It was like that around Amber. She had a way of brining out happiness and joy wherever she went.

“Look, Dougie goes to a Mixed Martial Arts gym. I was nearby and mom told us to meet up at the gym where she would pick us up.”

“Go on,” said Amber with a mischievous grin. A knowing look made me think that she already figured out the next part but was also enjoying my discomfort. Especially as I felt my cheeks flush.

“I didn’t know that Dougie told them about the school thing. Apparently, they wanted to see the, ‘Little spitfire’ for themselves.”

Taking a long drink of my lemonade and using it to buy time allowed me to calm somewhat despite the mischievous grin on my best friend’s face. Seeing no point in delaying the inevitable, I plowed on.

“So, Jack, one of the senior members of the gym was helping out that day and offered to spar with me. This is one of the guys that Dougie really looks up to. Especially since he’s ranked in the top fifty in the state.”

“So, how badly did you beat him?” said Amber with glee.

Groaning, I covered my face with my free hand.

“Five times,” I said in whisper.

“What?”

“I said, I beat him five times,” my voice loud enough in the crowd to cause a few heads walking by to turn my way for a moment. Embarrassment flooding through me once more. Yet it was Ambers smile that made me push forward and explain.

“He wanted to see how good I was since Dougie kept talking me up. Telling them all about what I had done in school. You know.” The bullies. The fights. The expulsions. On how I beat up seven boys more than twice my size when I found them around the unconscious and bleeding form of my little brother.

On how two of those seven went to the hospital and all had broken bones.

On how the rest of the students started calling me, ‘Rampage’ as a warning to leave me alone.

My words causing Amber to nod along.

Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself and plowed ahead.

“So, he said we should spar, best three out of five.”

“And you won all five times,” said Amber.

“He just wouldn’t accept it. He kept shouting things like, ‘you are cheating.’ And despite the protective equipment I left Dougie’s idol bruised and battered while walking away like I had just had a good, long run.”

“Crushing his dreams once more of ever beating you,” said Amber with a laugh.

“To think that the giant that goes by the nickname, ‘The Tyrant’ can’t beat his little sister.”

“Hey!” I said with a pout.

“I’m older than he is!”

“And he’s like two and a half of you and all muscle at that,” said Amber as se snarked back.

“And he still can’t beat you.”

At that I just shrugged. Especially since I didn’t want to continue the conversation as we approached the Gym’s booth. Dougie sitting in the shade of his own pavilion as he signed up new members.

“Hey Dougie!” said Amber in a shout to reach over the din of the crowd as she jumped up and waved to get his attention. Our meandering path through the throng of people making hard for him to spot us. The six and a half foot tall, two hundred and eighty pounds sixteen-year-old looked like a professional bodybuilder in his early twenties. His good looks, broad shoulders and a mature air about him that attracted girls like Amber to him like catnip dose for cats. His white wife beater shirt and shorts had the gym’s logo on it while he wore a us flag sticker on his shirt.

“It’s Douglas!” snapped Dougie as he spotted us.

“Hello Amber, Sis.”

“Hey,” I said with a gentle wave.

“Mom and Dad were asking about you.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Nope, just the usual.”

He nodded.

“What brings you two here?”

“I’m treating the three of us to lunch!” said Amber.

“So, get up, let’s get going,” said my friend with a clap while I face palmed and Dougie just stared at her. My friend obviously haven't forgotten that Dougie doesn’t like being told what to do. Yet despite my misgivings, he nods.

“Jake, I’m heading out to lunch. Hold down the fort!”

With that said, Dougie joins us as his buddy saddles up and takes the now empty chair. Resulting for all intents and purposes our trip to find lunch turning into a date. One that made me the third wheel as Amber scooted over to Dougie and grabbed his arm like they were together. My brother smiling as she pressed into him. All the while I found myself walking behind the pair as Amber chatted away with my brother. My presence forgotten in my best friends’ pursuit of my brother.

Crap.

I should have seen this coming.

Especially since all Amber wanted to talk about was Dougie. How Dougie was home even less than normal. The casual ease of their act of coming together. The way Amber effortlessly molded herself into him, speaking of a closeness of lovers and not simple friends.

“Hey, did you hear about what’s going on in the middle east?”

The words by a random passerby snapped me out of my introspection as the two love birds pushed on, into the crowd. My presence forgotten.

The persistent thread of conversation in the crowd as person after person talked with their friends about the news of the day. Usually brought up by men as the tone of the festivities brought out their protective side. A celebration of a war for independence that started two hundred forty-four years ago would do just that.

“I heard a man walked out of that hole in the middle east,” said one bearded fellow.

“I heard that every major power in the world is mobilizing troops in that direction,” said another.

Their conversation intriguing in light of being left behind and abandoned by my best friend and brother. I stopped to sit down and listen on a nearby park bench. The group I was listening in on being set up under a nearby pavilion that was being run by a charity. One that was seeking donations to help wounded veterans. So, with nothing better to do I pulled out my phone and pretended to play on it as I listened to the guys happily chatting away. A gut feeling telling me that this might be important.

“It’s going to be a mess; the portal is in Iran.”

“Fuck!”

“Damn right, those fuckers aren’t going to be happy when we roll up on their doorstep.”

“What if they try and stop us?”

“Bro, that portal as were calling it is eight miles wide and one tall.”

“Huh?”

“Make it thirteen klicks wide by two tall.”

“Oh, right, but Damn, that’s huge!”

“It’s too big to guard against.”

“Especially since it’s only a fifty or so miles from Armenia and Turkey and just a bit south of Mt Ararat.”

“I heard that the Pentagon has already flown drones inside.”

“I wonder what it’s like.”

“I found you, you fucking Bitch!” screamed a young female voice in front me as a wave of cold liquid crashed into me.

Looking up I found a young teenage girl with a soda cup the size of her head. Empty as the few drips that leaked into my mouth tasted of cola. An ember of rage ignited in my heart as everyone stopped to enjoy the spectacle.

“What the fuck Tabitha!” I said. My shout drawing even more attention but I didn’t care. Recognizing the thirteen-year-old in front of me as the little sister of a friend of mine.

“Because of you Chris is in the hospital!”

“What!?” I said in total disbelief. My anger quelling as tears began pouring out of the girl’s eyes.

“Come-on Tabitha, that’s enough. Let’s go,” said another girl in her early teens as she tried pulling her friend away.

“NO!”

“Because of you they didn’t beat him up and instead pushed him out in front of a car!”

“There’s no proof of that,” hissed another girl. All the while several members of the crowd started making their way over. Concern written across their features. Some were even glaring at me!

“I didn’t do anything!” I said hurriedly.

“Exactly!” wailed Tabitha as she pointed at me.

“You’re his friend and you did nothing!”

“You haven’t even come over to visit him in the hospital!”

“I swear I didn’t know!” I said all the while shaking my shirt to get the ice cubes on it drop to the ground.

“You should have, you’re his friend!”

“Come on now, calm down,” said a motherly woman as she walked up to Tabitha Green. The two seemed to know each other as the girl buried herself in the older woman and began to weep.

“Go on now and go get yourself cleaned up. I got this,” said the matronly woman with a smile. “Come on, the bathrooms are this way,” said one of Tabitha’s friends as guided me away. As the crowd kindly parted to make way for us to head for the public restrooms, the girl spoke just before we were about to enter.

“Please don’t be mad at Tabitha.”

“We just got back from talking to the police and they’re not going to do anything.”

Walking into the women’s restroom I made my way to a sink and began washing off.

“How’s Chris?”

“He’ll live, but the doctor’s say he’ll never walk again,” said the girl solemnly which made me wince. For Chris was a short brown-haired boy who was just a year or so younger than me. One who initially hit on me because I was one of only a handful of girls shorter than his 5ft 1inch height. 155 centimeters or rather 8 inches 21 centimeters below the world wide average human male was a sore topic. One that had resulted in him being heavily bullied.

Like many who get excessively bullied he had tried to project into the world what he had failed to receive. Making him a nice guy. That dreaded kind of male that for some reason made other girls instinctively associate the words, delusional, entitled, and narcissistic to that two-word phrase. And while I understand the why, I don’t agree with it.

For while Chris was a nice guy. Once I turned him down which had nothing to do with him or my preferences, he had asked if we remain friends. Agreeing to that, we hung out while at school for the last year and a half of my time in high school. But graduation had come and life moves on. While I had been his friend, I hadn’t wanted to give him false hope of a relationship so I had never given or taken his phone number.

Though in retrospect, I could see why Tabitha would seek me out. We had met several times in the past as she went to the same school as my little brother Tommie. Furthermore, it was no secret that Chris was my friend or that he would call upon my aid should the school bullies target him again. Dougie had even stepped in once and stopped his tormenters. As such it was kind of foolish to think that the bullies in question wouldn’t pounce on their favorite prey the moment that they thought his shield was gone for good.

“Tell me what happened,” I said as I took off my shirt and began to soak it.