It was really quite unfair that his dad was making him do this. It wasn’t like it was Simon’s fault he’d outgrown most of the clothing in his closet. Did his dad really have to make him go shopping?
And to make matters worse, his dad wasn’t even going to be tortured with him!
Simon was somehow supposed to pick out suitable clothing by himself because his dad supposedly had an emergency to deal with. Simon suspected that was a lie, but he couldn’t prove it.
Which was how he found himself being dropped off at the only mall in Stanbur with orders to pick out at least four outfits.
Well! If his dad was going to give him his credit card and leave him unsupervised, Simon was going to take full advantage of that.
Sighing to himself, Simon shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way toward the small food court in the center of the old building and kept his head down.
Unfortunately, in his plan to avoid as much social interaction as possible to get in and out as fast as possible, Simon never factored in the possibility of nearly getting run over as a herd of buffalo pounded past him from the direction of the food court.
The group of teenage boys skidded to a stop as the one in front caught his foot on an uneven part of the flooring and went tumbling to the ground.
Simon quickly realized a pack of wolves might be a more fitting description of the group as the four other boys circled the fallen boy, one laughing as another grabbed the boy by his sweater, yanked him to his feet, and slammed him up against the wall behind him.
“You’re going to pay for that!” Alpha snarled, gripping the boy by the collar, and that was when Simon realized he recognized them, and a quick sweep over the rest of his pack revealed someone Simon knew very well.
Or, well, he used to know him.
“I-I didn’t mean to spill my drink on you, I swear!” the boy squeaked out, his wide eyes frantically darting around.
“This was my favorite shirt, you dweeb!” Alpha snarled, smacking the boy back, causing his head smacking back against the tiled wall, and Simon winced in sympathy. “You’re going to pay for it.”
With that, Alpha twisted to the side and threw the boy on the ground, causing him to skid across the tiles several feet before coming to a stop not far from where Simon was standing and watching.
“Get him!” one of the other boys—Teddy—yelled, laughing like he had earlier.
Ugh. He was going to have to get involved, wasn’t he? So much for not socializing more than necessary.
Alpha flashed the boy a feral grin as the boy curled up, and he stalked toward him.
Feeling very put upon, Simon stepped forward and placed himself between the two of them. Alpha blinked and then looked at Simon incredulously. “Who the heck are you?”
Simon sighed as he took in Alpha’s stained shirt. “Someone who’s not going to let you beat on someone because of a stupid shirt.”
“You little . . .” Alpha growled, then like the obvious jock who’d hit his head one too many times, he actually took a swing at Simon.
Without so much as blinking, Simon caught the punch and twisted the boy’s arm around, causing Alpha to cry out in pain. Simon released him before feigning as if he was going to take a lung at the boy.
Alpha yelped and stumbled back a step, causing Simon to snort in amusement. Maybe this trip to the mall wouldn’t be completely boring.
Unfortunately, Alpha apparently didn’t like being laughed at as he glanced back at his little buddies. “What are you just standing around for?” he snarled, holding his sprained wrist against his chest. “Get him!”
Goon One and Two seemed to hesitate before dashing toward Simon, who was more than prepared for them.
The moment they were within reach, Simon struck, twisting and side-kicking Goon One in the chest, knocking the air out of the boy’s lungs as he stumbled back. Simon would make sure not to permanently hurt them, but otherwise, he had no intention of holding back.
Alpha decided to join the fight at the same time as Goon Number Two did.
Simon ducked the goon’s sloppy side hook as he stepped forward, twisted, and slammed his elbow into Alpha’s face, causing the boy to once again cry out in pain as his good hand flew up to his bleeding nose.
“Wow, Killian,” Simon said, rolling his shoulders as he turned toward the only teen that hadn’t join the fight. “You changed your friends from idiots to straight-up jerks, and not very athletic ones at that.” He scoffed, ducking as Goon Two tried to hit him from behind.
In response, Simon kicked his foot back and slammed it into the boy, causing him to curse.
“What’s the matter, Ky?” Simon asked, holding his hands as he smirked at Killian and ignored the rest of them for the moment. “Not going to join in on the fun?” They both knew Killian couldn’t touch Simon even if he tried.
At least the others seemed to have a rudimentary knowledge of how to fight, even if that didn’t actually help them in the long run.
“You know this freak?” Alpha asked, as if he wasn’t the one who was currently pinching his nose while still clutching his sprained wrist against his chest like a big sis. Simon had taken much worse and shaken it off.
“Well, this ‘freak,’” Simon said as he held up his fingers in air quotes, “would love to demonstrate how at the right angle a shoulder will just . . . ‘pop’ out of its socket.”
“Come on,” Killian muttered, ducking his head as he placed his hand on Alpha’s shoulder. “This isn’t worth it. Let’s just go.”
“A wise idea,” Simon said, flickering his gaze toward Goon Number One just to make sure he was aware Simon knew he was there. “Forget about the stupid shirt and get out of my face.”
With that, the pack scurried away, licking wounds which Simon suspected mostly consisted of their egos.
Killian looked like he wanted to say something before snapping his mouth shut and scrambling to follow after his new best friends.
Goodbye, Killian, Simon thought, knowing that if their friendship hadn’t been over before, it was now.
That thought hurt, but it was more of a dull ache than anything more than that. This . . . ending had been coming for a long time now, and Simon supposed he’d just been in denial about it.
Squaring his shoulders, Simon turned around to face the boy who’d started this all. He was a bit surprised to find him still on the ground.
Making friends had never come easy for Simon, but . . . well, he was down a best friend. Maybe he’d start looking for a new one. Even if the boy looked shaken and about ready to bolt, assuming he was able to get to his feet without falling.
Glancing down, he spotted a pair of glasses lying on the ground. “These yours?” Simon asked, squatting down to pick them up before holding them out to the boy.
“Yeah, thanks. For—for everything,” the boy muttered, ducking his head as he took the glasses and slid them onto his face. “I-I-It was a bit blurry, but you—you were impressive against them.”
Simon snorted and flashed him a smile. “Thanks. I’m Simon, by the way. What’s your name?”
The boy straightened his glasses before returning Simon’s smile with a shy one of his own. “I’m Jimmy.”
