CANDY BOYFRIEND

Hershey's kisses

Black cars whizzed past you, as you stood next to the street.
About to head into another day!

It has been two days since the...alleyway beat up session, and it gave you time to really wonder what was up with those kids? Like, what the actual hell? Invite you, and beat you up all of a sudden—why?! To mug you—you barely have any cash right now! Most of your greens were rolled up in your little, blue piggy bank next to Christa's ceramic piggy bank.

For Pete's sake, you only have twenty-five cents in your wallet!
The theory of your classmates trying to mug you to only miserably fail was crossed out.

Which reminds you...you ought to have to thank that ugly clown. Yeah, sure, it was dark that night. But even with a busted nose, a bruised cheek, and a cut lip, doesn't mean you were blind and dense.

You saw that your saviour was Ronald Crackdonald. The famous clown mascot from Crackdonald's. Even though his costume, (you could clearly make out that night) was disheveled and wrinkly, you were right. He was ugly. As if Ronald couldn't be more terrifying than he already was, his makeup was melted and smeared across his face, making him uglier than he already was.

You theorized that maybe your hero might have been a Crackdonald's employee and was just passing by while on break, and decided to save you from becoming "Late Night Classmate Punching bag and Snack."

That theory somehow made you feel like you were right, to which you probably are....you think.

So here you are—in the street right across the closest Crackdonald's that stood near the arcade, where your attack occurred.

With an exhale, you picked up the courage to cross the street, before being forcefully grabbed by the arm, making you tumble back to the sidewalk.

"Hey! What—" You protested.

"Look where you're going, idiot!" A familiar voice scolded you.

A car rushed past you, barely missing an accident that could've occurred today.

Your eyes widened, as you shook your arm away from his grasp.

Grant's eyes lit up in shock and fear, as he took a step back.
"Y-Y-Y/n...." He stammered in fear.

"Grant?" You voiced. Immediately, your shock melted, and turned into confusion and rage. "Oh, you bastard—I got mega jumbo beef with you and your homies, bitch!" You rolled up your sleeved up to your elbows, and clenching your hands to fists, ready to attack Grant for making you suffer on the weekends on making you wonder what made them hurt you all of a sudden. And for the bruises...and for making your boyfriend worry.

Poor Christa, for an entire weekend, while you were suffering from overthinking the reasons why Jen and her friends attacked you, you neglected to eat, making Christa take care of you. Though, he seemed to enjoy to baby you.

Oh well, this is for Christa too.

You swung a punch towards Grant. The young man dodged your attack, making your attack land on his bicep.
He dropped his sling bag, making a few books slide out.

"W-wait! Stop!" He pleaded, as he knelt down to pick up his books. Quickly shoving them back to his bag.
"I'll stay away, I promise!" He exclaims in fear.

"I barely hurt you yet." You snarled, about to attack again. Passerbys looked at both of you in curiosity, but still walked on to their business.

"Don't talk to me!" Grant roars.

You were taken aback by the sudden change in his emotions.
Was he secretly a woman? Man, it would be so cool to have him as a friend. If only he wasn't one of your attackers.