BRUISE VIOLET

Catfight!

Sweet Jesus!

It figured; they railroad him into filling in for one damn period, and it's the one with the fucking
catfight.

Only these two weren't looking to pull hair. Eric watched in a state approaching awe as the little
one hefted the baseball bat and took an abortive swing at the big one.

His mind fixating on what in the name of God had happened to the concept of femininity, he
remained spellbound as the larger girl advanced cagily towards her foe. But the blonde held her ground,
seemed to grip the weapon more tightly. Years of observing hostile body language gave him an
advantage over the untrained eye. The little blonde had taken a combat stance, her intent clear. Her
next swing wouldn't be for show.

Eric jolted himself into action and rushed to get between the rivals before impact occurred. He
got there so quickly the two hadn't time to register his presence so when he grabbed for the bat it was
purely on instinct that the little one danced away from him. He leveled a hard glare at the miscreant and
addressed her in his most fearsome tone of voice.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, young lady?"

The girl looked up at him but it was he that registered surprise.

Strange, Eric thought as he watched the flecks in the girl's eyes: first light, then dark, dark and
darker still. The emotion reflected back at him was physically palpable: contempt.

Held captive by her eyes, he didn't see but rather heard the bat whiz towards him.

"Shove it up your ass," she hissed.

Eric looked down. The bat lay at his feet.

He could feel the hair on the back of his neck and arms rising and struggled not to
hyperventilate. It took a while---he had no idea how long---before he caught a few muffled giggles, and
became aware of the crowd they had gathered. After the first jolt of adrenaline, he clenched his hands
to keep them from shaking and let the fear turn rapidly to anger. His face grew hot and a rush of fury
blistered its way up from the dark hole he kept it in. It aimed itself at the raggedy little blonde bitch but
she was already out of reach, her back turned to him, making her way towards the locker room.

"You! Get back here! NOW!"

The girl didn’t even turn. She just kept walking and to his utter astonishment actually had the
nerve to wave her hand back towards him dismissively.
 He was utterly dumbfounded. And oh...angry.

Aware of the young eyes upon him, he managed to drive the demon back down to its pit. He
turned to face the other combatant, forcing his voice into a smooth yet concerned drawl.

"Are you alright?"

Eric could almost hear the cogs turning inside the girl's head. Her face and body took on a slight
droop and when she spoke her voice quavered.

"Well, I think so. My knee…"

"…seemed just fine when you were going at that other girl."

Shelley---yes, now he remembered her name---tried another tactic.

"Maybe I just need to sit down for a minute." She took a theatric hobble-step toward before
pitching sideways towards him and reaching out a fluttering hand to his wrist to steady herself.

Eric felt the teenager's slim hip rub against his groin. He jerked back reflexively, then regained
his composure and stared down at the girl's errant appendage until Shelley read his displeasure and
discreetly removed her hand.

"Brenda! Amy! Can you please help your friend to the dugout?" The two acolytes came forward
but their assistance was merely perfunctory, as Shelley seemed to have made a miraculous recovery and
petulantly flopped down onto the nearest bench.

He turned to the remaining line of girls and wove his voice into a thread of pure silk. "Would any
of you happen to know what Miss Casey at the Bat's name is?"

"Chrystal Perrin," came the reply.

Eric turned towards the plumpish girl with the kinky brown hair and rash of freckles covering her
face.

"Thank you, Sarai," he effused and granted the perennial wallflower a megawatt smile.

Chrystal Perrin.

Chrystal Perrin. He rolled the name over his tongue a few times.

There shall be no joy in Mudville for you, little girl. In fact, you can kiss your carefree school days
goodbye—you have done stuck out!