My Life in a Band

Okay. I have to admit he was super good looking but that didn't make it an excuse why he had to injure me twice. One was enough. And let me say this again: I haven't done anything bad to him.

He didn't even seem surprised when he saw me. He just raised one of his eyebrows giving me a 'what do you need' look. I glared at him.

"Oh, it's you." He crossed his arms.

"You..." I started but I couldn't continue for fear I would finally do something really bad to him. I didn't want to cause a riot. There were too many people. No, wait. There was no one in this alley! Now I had a reason to cause a riot.

I walked toward him angrily. He looked confused but didn't really show it. He kept his cool. When I reached him, I slapped him really really hard. The blow made his cheek red and I actually thought I heard a small crack when his head turned. I thought he'd look angry but he didn't. He looked at me directly and I almost thought of running away. I couldn't measure his expression.

"What did you do that for?" He sounded angry but his face showed no emotion.

"Do you really hate me that much?" I shouted at him. His just looked at me like I was an insect and that made me even angrier. "You cut my hand and now you almost bumped your stupid car on my bike! You think I really want another injury?" I couldn't really call call his car stupid. It was too nice. But I didn't want to say that in front of his face.

He smiled mysteriously. It melted my heart but I didn't want to appear weak. "I'm just having fun," he said simply.

"Having fun?" I shouted at him. Now I was really very angry. "You call me being injured fun?" I was getting very wild now.

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "But you want to know what I'm doing this, right?"

I didn't answer. I just glared at him. Oh brother. This was going to get tough. He's so hard to understand.

"Because it's fun," he said.

That did it. I lunged at him and tried to punch him in the face but he was too quick for me and caught my fist in his hand. I was very red in the face now I wouldn't be surprised if I was redder than a tomato. I tried my other fist but that was no good. Now both of my fists were in his hands.

"Aside from playing the guitar, I take karate lessons too, you know." He laughed but stared at me intently, smoldering me with his gaze. "I'm the state champion for two years."

"The hell I care!" I kicked him in his painful part and that did it. He dropped my fists and clutched the part where I kicked him. He groaned a little.

"You..." he trailed off. I just laughed.

"You call that a frontal kick." And with that, I rode my bike, leaving him glaring at me from behind. But before I got really away, he shouted, "Practice on Friday, Cale! I'll prepare your sticks!"

I just laughed, stopped my bike and began to pedal toward him again, gaining speed. Instead of getting angry, I was amused. He actually had a bit of a sense of humor. I stopped my bike beside the driver's seat. He was inside his car now, but I could tell he was still suffering the effects of my kick. A state champion, huh. I leaned in close to his face until we were just a few centimeters apart. "Try cutting my hand and I'll kick you again." I laughed. He looked furious.

"Wanna spar?" he challenged me. He was narrowing his eyes on me.

"No thanks," I said. And with that, I rode my bike home, leaving him fuming behind, and feeling triumphant than ever before. Maybe that guy wouldn't be so bad.