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Chapter 4 - Clashing Instincts

Clashing Instincts

The schoolyard had never felt so small. The hot afternoon air seemed to tighten like a noose as the four older teens rushed in with a wave of aggressive energy towards the trio. Peterson didn't even have time to think, He stepped in front of Jean-Daniel by instinct, as he gotten in a battle stance, just as he did for Wilkens an hour earlier. 

One of them threw a punch toward Peterson, The first blow came fast, Peterson was quick and ducked under a wild swing and countered with a punch to the ribs. Jean-Daniel had tackled another attacker to the ground, they both rolling in the dust while throwing punches. Wilkens, wide-eyed and pale, froze for a second before dashing behind the stairwell, He was no fighter. His small frame trembled as he crouched, and praying not to be noticed but keep throwing glances.

The kid who's fighting Peterson threw another punch Peterson took it to the shoulder, he felt a light pain, he stumbled back, but he gritted his teeth and lunged forward threw a punch of his, it landed on the attack's face. He wasn't a trained boxer, but his street fight instincts kicks in. He threw more Punches. And Duck to avoid a swing from the side. He Kicked the one in front of him in the chest and fell on his butt. He was fighting to protect Jean-Daniel, Wilkens, and himself. Maybe even his pride.

Jean-Daniel fought like a hurricane against two of them, a little wild but effective. The two of them soon found rhythm, an unspoken sync. Jean-Daniel swept the leg of one that was facing Peterson, the boy tripped just as Peterson jabbed high, they both tackled him at the same time forcing their opponent to the ground. Another one came to the side grabbed Peterson's shirt, pull him, and throwing a punch to his jaw. He felt a sharp pain as He also tasted blood, even that, Peterson didn't back down.

It was chaos,The gang boys came at them with street fury, flailing arms and heavy kicks. Peterson and Jean-Daniel adapted, backing each other up, covering each other's blind spots. Two against four. It wasn't fair. But they tried their best and made it work.

They managed to drop one boy with a solid punch on the chin, Then a second one with a surprise kick in the face, But it came at a price. Jean-Daniel's lip was split, as the other two were attacking them from different spots, Peterson's arm hung sore and limp at his side. Blood dripped from a cut above his eyebrow.

Then things took turn for the worse.

One of the boys, the biggest of the group, pulled out a blade, a rusted kitchen knife, its edge jagged and stained.

"You ain't got nothing on this!" he growled, while rushing toward Jean-Daniel.

Peterson's heart seized skip a beat,Time slowed for a moment as He saw the flash of something metal in one of the attacker's hand heading for Jean-Daniel's side. Without thinking, he threw himself forward, tackling the attacker just in time. They tumbled, the knife slicing through the air above them.

Peterson grunted, he quickly jump on the attacker, pinning the his wrist to the dirt, but the boy fought back with everything he had. The blade shook inches from Peterson's throat. His muscles burned, as his face twisted in desperation. Jean-Daniel tried to help, but stumbled, dizzy from a blow to the head.

"Drop it"

The boy spat, shoving upward.

"I said DROP IT!"

A thunderous voice cracked through the yard,it was The tall supervisor in the white shirt and mirrored sunglasses stormed out of the building, fury radiating from every step.

In a flash, he grabbed the knife-wielder by the back of his shirt and yanked him off Peterson. The boy flailed, but the man twisted his wrist and the blade clattered to the ground.

"You must be dumb or high if you dare disobeying me." 

The supervisor shouted 

The teen face darkened when he realized who is in front of him.

The rest of the boys laying on the ground beaten and bruised, trying to back away slowly but, stunned.

"You four!" the supervisor barked. "And you two!" he pointed at Peterson and Jean-Daniel "Inside. Now. You aswel, Wilkens. Don't think I didn't see you hiding."

Wilkens peeked from his corner and shuffled forward sheepishly.

Inside the hallway, the air was cool but heavy. Every footstep echoed with tension. The fight may have ended, but consequences hung in the air like a storm cloud.

In the office, the supervisor locked the door behind him and eyed all of them with disappointment.

"You boys think this is a joke?" he snapped. "You want to throw away your future for some street nonsense?"

Peterson stayed quiet, his knuckles are red, and his school shirt is torn.

Jean-Daniel wiped his bloody mouth and stared at the floor.

The supervisor's eyes landed on the knife that he place on his desk. "That could've ended with a body on the ground. Then what were you gonna do , you could've ended up in jail and what were you gonna tell your parents? Huh?"

Wilkens shuffled nervously, clutching his bag like a shield.

The supervisor sighed, dropping his tone. "You boys think you're hard like some kind of street gang boys you think you're men ? , you are still boy. Just so you know men protect. They don't destroy. And right now, all I see are scared and careless kids trying to act tough."

No one responded. The weight of the supervisor words sank in like reaching through their souls and emotions. 

"I have to call your parents. I should suspend every one of you."

Peterson lifted his head. "Sir....please!! We didn't start it."

Jean-Daniel added, "They were actually here for me, just because of something I said last week to one of their friends, I didn't even know they were gonna show up like that and attack me."

The supervisor stared long at them both. Then looked at Wilkens. "And you ,how are you involved in all that ?"

Wilkens swallowed. "I… I don't fight, I don't have anything to with this fight , I just wanted it to stop sir."

After a long pause, he was trying to organize his thoughts, the supervisor rubbed his temples. "Alright, I'm not done with yall yet. Go have a sit outside. I need to make some calls, and don't you dare start anything or else.."

They filed out quietly.

Outside the office, Jean-Daniel sat beside Peterson, his back leaned against the wall.

"You saved me, I owe you one for that " he said after a beat.

Peterson shook his head. "You would have done the same."

"Maybe," Jean-Daniel muttered. "But I won't forget it, I will also have your back whenever you're in trouble, i promise "

Peterson smiled " That's good to know"

They sat in silence, they have some bruises on their faces and body, the blood on their shirts had dried a little, but bonded like blood brothers.

Something had changed between them. Something real.

The lines between enemy, friend, and brother blurred under the burning Haitian sun.

And Peterson knew, this was only the beginning.

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