The Kings Of Cool

176

Your nuts can’t lift weights.

Okay, maybe they can, maybe you’re that guru who nut-lifts five-pound stones from the Ganges, or you’re that guy who wins the Darwin Award on YouTube and becomes an eRoom legend, but as a rule there are no reps you can do to strengthen your junk against a well-placed knee delivered with bad intent.

Which O had.

Which O did.

She just cocked that knee back and let fly and then Quarterback was on the sand on his knees and O should have walked away right there, but she paused to admire her handiwork and Quarterback lunged and cracked her one in the side of the face.

O was stunned.

He grabbed her by the front of her shirt, took her down, and fell on top of her. His junk was hurting way too much for him to focus on his original intent, but now he was in a rage-all he wanted to do was hurt her, and he pressed her down into the sand and pummeled her ribs. She could hardly breathe, her head was still whirling, and she knew she was in big trouble.

Except not.

Because suddenly she felt the weight literally being lifted off her and this one guy had QB by the neck and another was pulling her to her feet.

Ben asked, “Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” O answered.

Ben said that she didn’t.

“Did this guy hit you?” Chon asked.

They didn’t recognize each other. It had been years since the school in the canyon. O just vaguely recognized them as seniors.

“Yeah.”

Chon shook his head at QB and said, “Not cool.”

QB was jacked up and a little overconfident from the gym and the fact that five of his boys rolled in just now to back him up so he actually said, “Mind your own fucking business, asshole.”

Then he grabbed O by the front of her shirt like he was going to haul his property away.

Chon’s kick came up and snapped QB’s elbow like a Popsicle stick.

QB went down screaming.

None of his boys wanted any piece of Chon after that, so they picked QB up and carried him down the beach.

Chon stood there, breathing, coming down from the adrenaline.

“Do you have a name?” Ben asked the girl.

“O.”

“O.”

“It’s really Ophelia,” O admitted.

“I’m Ben. This is Chon.”

Yes, O thought.

Yes it is.

My magic boy.